istituto veneto di scienze, lettere ed arti

RETHINKING LAYARD 1817-2017

edited by STEFANIA ERMIDORO and CECILIA RIVA

in collaboration with LUCIO MILANO

2020 ISBN 978-88-92990-00-5

This volume contains the papers presented at the Conference Rethinking Layard 1817-2017 and is promoted by Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti and by Università Ca’ Foscari Venezia, Dipartimento di Studi Umanistici (Venice, 5-6 March 2018)

This publication has been co-financed with the PRIN 2015 “Ebla e la Siria del Bronzo Antico: ricezione, circolazione e trasmissione di modelli culturali” project funds - Principal Investigator: Prof. Lucio Milano

This volume is available in Open Access mode: https://www.istitutoveneto.org/pdf/rethinkinglayard18172017.pdf

Project and editorial drafting: Ruggero Rugolo © Copyright Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti 30124 Venice - Campo S. Stefano 2945 Tel. 0412407711 - Telefax 0415210598 [email protected] - www.istitutoveneto.it CONTENTS

Preface ...... Pag. VII

Andrew R. George, Layard of and the Tablets of Nineveh ...... » 3 Silvia Alaura, and Archibald Henry Sayce: an Anatolian Perspective ...... » 25 John Curtis, Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper and His Other Artists ...... » 63 Georgina Herrmann, Austen Henry Layard, and His Ivories ...... » 91 Stefania Ermidoro, A Family Treasure: the Layard Collection at Newcastle University ...... » 115 Henrike Rost, New Perspectives on a Supranational Elite in Venice: Lady Layard’s Musical Activities and Her Autograph Book (1881-1912) ...... » 137 Jonathan P. Parry, Henry Layard and the British Parliament: Outsider and Expert ...... » 155 Maria Stella Florio, Rawdon Brown and Henry Layard in Venice ...... » 171 Frederick Mario Fales, Layard, Saleh, and Miner Kellogg: Three Worlds in a Single Painting ...... » 183 Cecilia Riva, Austen Henry Layard and His Unruly Passion for Art ...... » 205

Indexes ...... » 221 Affiliations ...... » 227

Preface

Rethinking Layard 1817-2017 marked the bicentenary of the birth of the famous archaeologist and diplomat Austen Henry Layard (1817-1894). This landmark year encouraged further reflection on his reputation and the role he played within the European context of the nineteenth century. In the last decades, scholars have tackled his multifaceted interests in art, archaeology, education, politics, and diplomacy. This interdisciplinary approach was maintained in Rethinking Layard 1817-2017, a two-day conference held at Palazzo Loredan, Venice, on 5-6 March 2018. The present volume brings together contributions to the conference, which was organised by Stefania Ermidoro and Cecilia Riva, with the support of the Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere e Arti and Scuola Dottorale in Storia delle Arti of Ca’ Foscari University. Attention was placed upon three major themes: “Layard and archaeology” chaired by Lucio Milano (Università Ca’ Foscari Venezia); “New data on Layard” presided over by Jaynie Anderson (University of Melbourne); and “Politics, diplomacy, and art” moderated by Emanuele Pellegrini (IMT Lucca). To complement the papers addressed in the Sala delle Adunanze of Palazzo Loredan, a visit to Ca’ Cappello Layard was arranged to see the palace where Layard and his wife Enid lived from 1880 to 1912. Drawing on the conference Austen Henry Layard tra l’Oriente e Venezia organised by F.M. Fales and B.J. Hickey in 1983, the present studies are intended to expand and cross-relate new, unpublished materials about Layard and his activities, relationships, influences, achievements, and long-term legacy in and Venice. New research into the career of Layard, his networks of expert contacts and colleagues, prompted the publication of these contributions. A first series of papers stresses the role Layard played as a pioneer and supporter of archaeological studies and revives his legacy. Not only did Layard establish the foundations of , as Andrew George argues, but he also contributed to the pre-classical archaeology of , as VIII preface

Silvia Alaura outlines in her essay on the exchange of expertise between Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce. John Curtis addresses Layard’s relationship with the artists who accompanied him on the excavations in Nimrud and Nineveh, whose illustrations contributed to a more precise contextualization of Layard’s discoveries, as well as to a better understanding of Assyrian art among scholars and the public. Mario F. Fales explains how Assyrian discoveries reached America, by analysing the idealised Orientalist portrait Miner K. Kellogg painted of Layard. Drawing back from the function of these visual representations of and the Orient in general, Georgina Herrmann offers a close examination of some of the Syro-Phoenician and Egyptianizing ivories discovered by Layard, kept at the . Having delved into the Layard’s family archive that was recently deposited to the Philip Robinson Library at Newcastle University, Stefania Ermidoro presents Layard from a new and more intimate perspective. Being a repository of personal memories and working materials, the archive furnishes a point of access to Layard’s varied interests and activities, as well as to those of his wife, Lady Enid Layard, née Guest. Henrike Rost directs her attention to Lady Layard’s autograph album and the musical evenings organised at Ca’ Cappello Layard, which gives a fascinating insight into the couple’s social circle. Among the activities the Layards pursued in Venice was their investment in -making, which Rosa Barovier Mentasti described at the conference; her presentation can be seen on the Istituto Veneto’s Youtube channel. The Venetian context of the mid-nineteenth century onwards is explored by Maria Stella Florio. She shifts the emphasis away from the Layards by introducing another illustrious Anglo-Venetian, albeit of the previous generation, Rawdon Brown. The comparison between these two personalities and their approach to Venice and its institutions is complemented by Cecilia Riva’s essay, in which Layard’s collecting activity and networks are explored. She focuses particularly on the British diplomatic corps in Venice and its role in the art market. Indeed, Layard’s lifelong ambition since his first journey to Constantinople was to be a diplomat of the top rank, a status he partly achieved. Johnathan Parry points out how his diplomatic ambitions also guided his parliamentary career, while shedding new light on one of the least-known aspects of Layard’s life. preface IX

The sheer variety and breadth of the essays, as well as their cross- relation in content, contribute to a rich and complex picture of Layard. Rethinking Layard 1817-2017 drew attention to Layard’s involvement in the many public institutions in which he took part, both in London and in Venice. In particular, the contributors shed light on Layard’s activities as a collector and contributor to various museums and private collections. Finally, Layard’s ongoing legacy elicits much attention, especially in the fields of archaeology, art market issues, glass studies, and history of politics. We are very grateful to all contributors for having accepted our invitation and for their lively collaboration throughout the development of this project; many thanks are equally due to those who chaired the sessions at the conference in Venice. The event benefitted from a large audience, whose enthusiastic participation enriched several fruitful discussions: we would like to thank all those who took part to the event, in particular Gianni Lanfranchi for the “Layard surprise” which he organised and which brought the audience face to face with several pieces from an Italian private collection that had been donated by Layard himself. We owe a special word of thanks to Lucio Milano, who has supported us in every way from the very beginning. We are grateful to Martina Frank for the support that we received from the Scuola Dottorale in Storia delle Arti of Ca’ Foscari University. Warm thanks are due to the Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti, in particular to its President Gherardo Ortalli and Chancellor Giovanna Palandri. We are also grateful to Sebastiano Pedrocco and all the other members of the staff at the Istituto, who contributed in every detail to the successful organization of the event in Venice. Ruggero Rugolo has guided this book through the publication process: to him, we are truly grateful.

Venice, September 2020 Stefania Ermidoro, cecilia Riva Photographic credits

Every effort has been made to trace copyright holders and obtain permission for the use of copyright material. The publisher apologises for any errors or omissions in the captions and would be grateful if notified of any corrections that should be incorporated in future reprints or editions of this book. RETHINKING LAYARD 1817-2017

Andrew R. George

Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh

Abstract Layard’s discovery in 1850 of thousands of tablets in the ruins of an Assyrian palace at Nineveh provided the foundation stone for the modern science of Assyriology. This paper considers what he found and how it came to be where he found it.

Layard’s work at Nineveh

Austen Henry Layard was, during an eventful life of seventy- seven years (1817-1894), many things – trainee solicitor, adventurer, archaeologist, Member of Parliament, government minister, ambassador and art historian – but he made his reputation in early Victorian as the young man who discovered the ancient Assyrian city of Nineveh. At a time when the new sciences of geology and paleontology were casting doubts on the veracity of the Biblical account of creation, people were eager for knowledge that might shed light on the Old Testament. The emergence from darkness of Assyria and its kings was proof to some of the historicity of the Bible, and gave Layard and Nineveh a prominent place in public culture. So when in 1851 the Crystal Palace was built in Hyde Park, London, to celebrate the international advance of technology and science, a conspicuous feature was an Assyrian Court, where casts of a selection of Assyrian monuments that Layard had newly sent from trumpeted the splendours of ancient architecture. When the Crystal Palace was removed to Sydenham Hill in south London, Layard was persuaded to write a descriptive pamphlet; he agreed, but insisted on renaming the installation the Nineveh Court1.

1 A.H. Layard, The Nineveh Court in the Crystal Palace, London 1854. 4 Andrew R. George

Nineveh sits on the left bank of the river , opposite the city of , which in the nineteenth century was the centre of a province of the . Layard first came to Mosul in April 1840, en route from Aleppo to and Iran, intending to continue overland to Ceylon, where his companion Edward Mitford planned to farm coffee and Layard thought to practice law. He and Mitford stayed in Mosul for several days and visited the sites of ancient cities that were still visible in the countryside around Mosul – among them the ruin mounds of Kuyunjik, Nimrud and Qalah Sherqat. This experience kindled in him a desire to examine the mounds more thoroughly, especially at Nimrud. Two years later, after many adventures alone in Iran and the Zagros mountains2, and with the goal of Ceylon firmly forgotten,L ayard passed through Mosul again. This time he was travelling from Baghdad to to offer his services to Sir Stratford Canning, the British ambassador there. During a stay of only three days in Mosul in June 1842 he became acquainted with the newly appointed French consul, Paul Émile Botta, and was intrigued to learn of the Frenchman’s mission to conduct excavations in the ruin mounds near Mosul. Over the next few years, while Layard ran diplomatic and political errands for Canning in Istanbul and Botta remained at his post in Mosul, the two often corresponded. In due course Botta told Layard of his spectacularly successful excavations, not in Kuyunjik opposite Mosul, where results were disappointing and trial trenches soon abandoned, but some twenty-five kilometres to the north-west at Khorsabad, where in the spring of 1843 a great Assyrian palace came to light, complete with well-preserved sculpture and other monuments. This palace was later identified as the work of king Sargon II (reigned 721-705 BC) in his city, Fort Sargon (Dur-Sharruken). Citing Botta’s success Layard set about persuading Canning to send him to Mosul in fulfilment of his longstanding desire to explore the mound at Nimrud. At last Canning, perhaps galled by the prospect of a French triumph in the field, agreed to support this enterprise. So it was that in October 1845 Layard came to Mosul a third time, with funding from Canning to sustain an expedition for two months. In

2 described in M.T. Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria: Excavations in an Antique Land 1840-1860, London - New York 1994, pp. 52-60. Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 5

November he set to work at Nimrud and immediately discovered walls lined with stone slabs bearing cuneiform inscriptions. At the end of the month the first sculptured wall-slabs emerged at the south-west corner of Nimrud. When he turned his attention to an area further north, he met with even greater success. Over the following months excavation revealed many chambers of the North-West Palace at Nimrud, most of them decorated with sculptured slabs. Layard thought that what he had found was part of the city of Nineveh, but within a few years Assyrian cuneiform was deciphered and the inscriptions he found in the palace at Nimrud revealed that it was the work of king Ashurnasirpal II (883- 859 BC), and its location was not Nineveh but Kalhu (biblical Calah). Such was Layard’s success at Nimrud that the season of excavations there was extended until May 1847, when, as he put it in Nineveh and its Remains, the «surrounding country became daily more dangerous from the incursions of the Arabs of the desert»3, and he had to withdraw. Already in the summer of 1846, retreating to Mosul from the heat of Nimrud, he had put some trenches into the great mound of Kuyunjik opposite the town, but without much to show for it. But having closed his excavations at Nimrud he returned there and dug more deeply. Six metres below the surface, his workmen alighted on sculptured slabs lining the walls of what was later identified as the throne-room suite of another huge Assyrian building, the South-West Palace of king (704-681 BC) in his capital, Ninua (Nineveh). Clearly more time was needed to explore the palace further, but funds had run out and in June 1847, after only five weeks of excavation on Kuyunjik, Layard left Mosul, travelling first to Istanbul and then on to England. Layard arrived in England at the end of December 1847, six months after the first sculptures from Nimrud had entered the British Museum. He found that they had already created a sensation and he himself was lionized by London society. His fame grew even more with the publication early in 1849 of his first book, Nineveh and its Remains, and it became clear to all that the British Museum should provide funds for a second expedition to Assyria. This the museum did, though the provision was far from lavish. Layard, who had returned to

3 A.H. Layard, Nineveh and Its Remains. With an Account of a Visit to the Chaldaean Christians of Kurdistan, and the Yezidis, or Devil-Worshippers, Vol. 2, London 1849, p. 115. 6 Andrew R. George diplomatic service in Istanbul in December 1848, received instructions to renew excavations, and left for Mosul in August 1849, arriving there in September. In his absence some progress had been made in exploring the South-West Palace on Kuyunjik, under the supervision of first H.J.R oss, a British merchant resident in Mosul whom Layard had befriended4, and then Ross’s business partner, Christian Rassam, who was also the British vice-consul there. The foreman,T oma Shishman (the Fat), had devised a less labour-intensive method of excavation: instead of clearing each chamber by the complete removal of the debris that filled it, the workmen now tunnelled deep under the surface, following the slab-lined walls at floor level. The subterranean excavations were illuminated by shafts leading from the surface to the tunnelled galleries and equipped with rope lifts to haul out the spoil, as shown in a watercolour sketch made by S.C. Malan during Layard’s second expedition (Fig. 3 left)5. Layard’s second expedition to Assyria lasted nineteen months, from September 1849 until April 1851. He placed workmen at Nimrud as well as on Kuyunjik, but this time it was Sennacherib’s palace which received most of their attention (Fig. 1). He later looked back on his results with justified pride:

In this magnificent edifice I had opened no less than seventy-one halls, chambers, and passages, whose walls, almost without an exception, had been panelled with slabs of sculptured alabaster recording the wars,

4 J. Russell, Sennacherib’s Palace Without Rival Revisited: Excavations at Nineveh and in the British Museum Archives, in Assyria 1995, Proceedings of the 10th Anniversary Symposium of the Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project (Helsinki, September 7-11 1995), edited by S. Parpola - R.M. Whiting, Helsinki 1997, pp. 295-306; G. Turner, Sennacherib’s Palace at Nineveh: The Drawings of H.A. Churchill and the Discoveries of H.J. Ross, «», 63 (2001), pp. 107-138. 5 On Malan see A.H. Layard, Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and ; With Travels in Armenia, Kurdistan and the Desert: Being the Result of a Second Expedition Undertaken for the Trustees of the British Museum, London 1853, p. 363; C.J. Gadd, A Visiting Artist at Nineveh in 1850, «Iraq», 5 (1938), pp. 118-122; R.D. Barnett - E. Bleibtreu - G. Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh, Vol. 1, London 1998, p. 16; G. Turner, Sennacherib’s Palace at Nineveh: The Primary Sources for Layard’s Second Campaign, «Iraq», 65 (2003), pp. 175-220 (esp. p. 208); T. Clayden, Two New Prints of Layard’s Excavations at Nimrud: An Artist at Nimrud and Nineveh, «Iraq», 77 (2015), pp. 41-58 (esp. pp. 45, 51-56). Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 7

the triumphs, and the great deeds of the Assyrian king. By a rough calculation, about 9880 feet, or nearly two miles [3 km], of bas-reliefs, with twenty-seven portals, formed by colossal winged bulls and lion- sphinxes, were uncovered in that part alone of the building explored by my researches6. During this time Layard was not always present in Mosul. Apart from long visits to Nimrud to supervise the excavations there, he made three major excursions: to Tell Arban, an archaeological site on the river Khabur west of Mosul in March-May 1850, to Lake Van to escape the summer heat in July and August 1850, and to and Baghdad in November 1850-February 18517. On returning from these excursions he was naturally keen to learn about what had been found in his absence. His return from Tell Arban in May 1850 coincided with great excitement on the Assyrian mounds. He first visited Nimrud, where some most unusual sculpture had come to light; but when he arrived at Mosul on 10 May 18508, he learned that Kuyunjik had yielded something more extraordinary – a large mass of cuneiform tablets.

The «Chambers of Records»

By April 1850 Layard’s workmen had reached a suite of rooms behind the south-west façade of Court 19 of the South-West palace on Kuyunjik. Like much of the palace, these chambers were decorated with reliefs depicting scenes of conquest. The slabs from the innermost chamber of this suite, Room 36, had not at this point been uncovered, but they later became particularly well known, for they illustrated Sennacherib’s conquest of the town of Lachish, in confirmation of the encounter between the Assyrian army and Hezekiah of Judah told in II Kings 18-19. On the north-west side of the Lachish suite was a set of three rooms, accessed from Room 38 by two doorways decorated with reliefs of

6 Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, p. 589. 7 Ibid., pp. 234-336, 365-436, 464-582; Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, pp. 244- 254, 266-268, 275-285. 8 Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh, Vol. 1, p. 6, pace Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, p. 153 (10 June). 8 Andrew R. George human figures clad in fish skins (Entrances g and i). Here, in May 1850, beyond the more northerly doorway (g), Layard’s workmen had found a great mass of clay tablets inscribed in cuneiform script. Cuneiform was at that time still in the process of decipherment, but Layard knew what the tablets were, having found several at Nimrud and a few already at Nineveh, in his first season in the South-West Palace. Two of them he had even copied himself and published alongside many inscriptions on stone monuments in Inscriptions in the Cuneiform Character9. Layard’s manuscript notes, published in 1995, give the location of the cuneiform tablets found in May 1850 as Room W (= 41 in the later scheme), of which he records:

All the slabs almost completely destroyed. A few led horses could be distinguished and on the north side a sea or river covered with galleys and a castle on the shore. In this chamber was discovered the large collection of inscribed clay tablets10. His description in Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon, however, states that tablets were also found in the adjoining chamber (Room 40). He refers to both rooms as the «chambers of records» and implies that they shared the same decorative scheme:

The first doorway [g], guarded by the fish-gods, led into two smaller chambers opening into each other [Rooms 41 and 40], and once panelled with bas-reliefs, the greater part of which had been destroyed. On a few fragments, still standing against the walls, could be traced a city on the shore of a sea whose waters were covered with galleys. I shall call these chambers «the chambers of records», for [...] they

9 A.H. Layard, Inscriptions in the Cuneiform Character from Assyrian Monuments discovered by A. H. Layard, London 1851. ICC no. 30 = BM ME 48-7-20, 117+120 (ABL 1089), see S. Parpola, The Royal Archives of Nineveh, in Cuneiform Archives and Libraries, edited by K.R. Veenhof, Leiden-Istanbul 1986, pp. 223-236: p. 225 n. 15; J. Reade, Archaeology and the Kuyunjik Archives, ibid., pp. 213-222: p. 213; ICC no. 79 = BM ME 48-11-4, 280 (Reade, Archaeology and the Kuyunjik Archives; A.R. George, Three Middle Assyrian Tablets in the British Museum, «Iraq», 50 (1988), pp. 25-37: p. 29). 10 J. Russell, Layard’s Descriptions of Rooms in the Southwest Palace at Nineveh, «Iraq», 57 (1995), pp. 7-85 (cf. p. 80); see further Turner, Sennacherib’s Palace at Nineveh: The Primary Sources for Layard’s Second Campaign, p. 182. Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 9

appear to have contained the decrees of the Assyrian kings as well as the archives of the empire. The historical records and public documents of the Assyrians were kept on tablets and cylinders of baked clay. [...] The chambers I am describing appear to have been a depository in the palace of Nineveh for such documents. To the height of a foot or more from the floor they were entirely filled with them; some entire, but the greater part broken into many fragments, probably by the falling in of the upper part of the building. [...] Many cases were filled with these tablets before I left Assyria, and a vast number of them have been found, I understand, since my departure. A large collection of them is already deposited in the British Museum11. Layard clearly thought that he had found the cuneiform tablets in their original context, and that they were damaged when the roof collapsed on them. To illustrate the find he published in Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon a lithograph, entitled the Archive Chamber Kouyunjik in the singular, and offering a view of one chamber alone (Fig. 2 left)12. It depicts Layard sitting on a slab, drawing scenes from the reliefs on the opposite wall. This lithograph was the work of the illustrator Nicholas Chevalier13, based on Malan’s watercolour «sketched on the spot» on 17 June, five weeks after Layard’s return to Mosul from Tell Arban (Fig. 2 right)14. It depicts a chamber open to the sky. The layout of doorways fits Room 41 exactly, as seen looking west from near the east corner. The lower walls are decorated with damaged reliefs depicting on the south-west wall horses and on the north-west, galleys at sea. Probably the subject matter is Sennacherib’s campaign to

11 Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, pp. 344-347. 12 Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh, Vol. 2, pl. 369; E. Bleibtreu, Catalogue of Sculptures, ibid., Vol. 1, p. 109 no. 463b. In the John Murray edition (London) of Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, this illustration faces p. 345. In some American printings the captions of this and a preceding illustration entitled «Entrance Passage Kouyunjik» (Murray edition facing p. 340) have been exchanged in error. 13 On Chevalier see further Clayden, Two New Prints of Layard’s Excavations at Nimrud, p. 44 n. 5. 14 Colour J.N. Postgate, The First Empires, Oxford 1977, p. 41; description Bleibtreu, Catalogue of Sculptures, p. 109 no. 463a; Clayden, Two New Prints of Layard’s Excavations at Nimrud, pp. 53-54 no. 27. 10 Andrew R. George the Levant, who before marching south to Lachish inflicted defeats on Sidon and other maritime cities of Phoenicia. The decoration agrees with Layard’s manuscript description of the Room W (= 41) and his published account of the «chambers of records», both quoted above. In Malan’s depiction a workman sits in the foreground, above a floor that is encumbered by fallen blocks of masonry. There is no sign of cuneiform tablets, which must already have been cleared and taken to Mosul for safekeeping. As has been noted before15, Chevalier’s engraving was not an exact replica of Malan’s sketch. The lithographer adjusted the image to suit the publisher’s needs. The seated workman metamorphosed into the figure of Layard drawing reliefs, taken from another of Malan’s sketches that depicts him sitting in Court 19 drawing Slabs 15 and 1616; this fiction explains why no drawings of the reliefs of Rooms 40 and 41 have been found in Layard’s folios. In addition, Chevalier restored the slabs on the north-west wall to their original height, and rearranged the disturbed masonry in the foreground in such a way that some have identified it as a threshold, and supposed that the chamber might be Room 40 not 4117. Taking Malan’s sketch as a more accurate rendering of the space, and considering also the information given in Layard’s manuscript description of Room W (= 41), there is no reason to make that adjustment.

The function of Rooms 40 and 41

Layard assumed that the content of Rooms 40 and 41 – thousands of cuneiform tablets – determined their function as archive chambers. The fact that his workmen found many pieces of tablet scattered in other parts of the South-West Palace, both near to Rooms 40 and 41 and further away, did not alter his view; probably the great find had so fixed in his mind the idea of an archive chamber that he did not consider how to account for the distribution of tablets as a whole.

15 E.g. Gadd, A Visiting Artist at Nineveh in 1850, p. 122; Bleibtreu, Catalogue of Sculptures, p. 109; Clayden, Two New Prints of Layard’s Excavations at Nimrud, pp. 53-54. 16 Bleibtreu, Catalogue of Sculptures, p. 109. 17 Ibid. Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 11

He felt confirmed in his belief that Rooms 40 and 41 were archive chambers by the fishy figures at the doorway (Entrance g), which he connected with the legend of the fish-sages who civilized mankind in Berossus’ Babyloniaca. The fish-clad figures at Entrances g and i (Fig. 3 left) were thus in his eyes appropriate guardians for the repositories of written knowledge stored within. The fish-clad figures are now indeed identified as representations of sages (apkallu), but because their function elsewhere seems to be apotropaic, and not specific to libraries and archives, their depiction in Entrances g and i is not related to the presence of cuneiform tablets inside Rooms 40 and 41. Study of the architecture of Assyrian palaces in general, and the South-West palace of Sennacherib in particular, shows that the original function of Rooms 40 and 41 was a bathroom suite18. The key features are the niche in Room 40 and the special guardian figures at the connecting doorway (h). Other chambers with niches, secluded by an anteroom like Room 41, were found by excavation more thorough than Layard’s to have stone floors and drains. In the South-West palace, seven bathrooms have been identified, four of them with like-sized anterooms (like Room 41) and three without. In all cases, the final doorway into the bathroom itself is guarded by the same pair of apotropaic figures, the Smiting God and the Lion-Man19. The task of these aggressive figures was to repel evil influences from entering a place where it can be supposed rituals of ablution took place, alongside less formal bathing, washing and personal functions. The Lion-Man (human body, lion’s head) is the exact counterpart of the Lion-Centaur (lion’s body, human head) whose role in the Mesopotamian bathroom is well attested: he was the opponent of the nefarious demon Shulak who lurked in the drain20. It is clear that if Layard’s «chambers of records» were in fact a

18 G. Turner, The State Apartments of Late Assyrian Palaces, «Iraq», 32 (1970), pp. 177-213 (cf. p. 201); J. Russell, Sennacherib’s Palace Without Rival at Nineveh, Chicago 1991, pp. 64-66; D. Kertai, The Architecture of Late Assyrian Palaces, Oxford 2015, pp. 190-195. 19 D. Kertai, The Guardians at the Doors: Entering the Southwest Palace at Nineveh, «Journal of Near Eastern Studies», 74 (2015), pp. 325-349 (cf. pp. 341-343). 20 A.R. George, On Babylonian Lavatories and Sewers, «Iraq», 77 (2015), pp. 75-106 (cf. pp. 86-91). 12 Andrew R. George bathroom and its antechamber, the cuneiform tablets found within them were in a secondary archaeological context. They must once have been stored elsewhere. Other evidence points in the same direction. Rooms 40 and 41 lack easy access to natural light, such as would have been required for the retrieval and consultation of records21. Additionally, there is no suggestion in Layard’s description of floors «entirely filled with» tablets, that the tablets had been arranged in storage units. The conventional technology for tablet storage in a Neo- Assyrian monumental building was the pigeonhole system, as featured in rooms off the forecourts of the Nabû temple at Khorsabad (Rooms 5 and 15)22. Even if such features were unrecognizable to early excavators, pigeonholes tend to retain their contents and do not distribute them across whole floors. Before discussing how and when the tablets ended up in a bathroom suite, it is necessary briefly to describe what Layard had found.

The cuneiform tablets from the South-West Palace

The tablets found in May 1850 by Layard in due course came to the British Museum. They were followed by a second batch, found by Layard’s assistant and successor as excavator, Hormuzd Rassam, in December 1853. These came from another palace on the mound of Kuyunjik, the North Palace of Sennacherib’s grandson, (668-630? BC). On accession in the museum, the two lots of tablets were given the same siglum, K for Kouyunjik, and became irretrievably mixed. According to Julian Reade, tablets with very low K numbers

21 L. Battini, La localisation des archives du palais sud-ouest de Ninive, «Revue d’Assyriologie», 90 (1996), pp. 33-40 (cf. pp. 37-38). 22 G. Loud - C.B. Altman, Khorsabad, Part II. The Citadel and the Town (Oriental Institute Publications, 40), Chicago 1938, pp. 60, 62, pls. 19c, 24d. The pigeonhole system is also exemplified by the intact library of tablets excavated in situ in Room 355 of the Neo-Babylonian temple of Shamash at Sippar in 1986 (W. al-Jadir, Une bibliothèque et ses tablettes, «Archéologia», 224 (1987), pp. 18-27; Id., Le quartier de l’É.babbar de Sippar (Sommaire des fouilles de 1985-1989, 8-11èmes campagnes), in Mésopotamie et Élam. Actes de la XXXVIème Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale, edited by L. De Meyer - H. Gasche, Ghent 1991, pp. 193-196). Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 13

(K 1–278) are almost all from the South-West Palace23; otherwise the provenance of any K tablet might be either palace, except for those very few that can be recognised in the accounts of George Smith and subsequent excavators24. Later excavations on Kuyunjik, and elsewhere at Nineveh, brought in supplementary batches of tablets and fragments (Table 1). These nearly 32,000 tablets and fragments became the foundation stone of the new field of Assyriology25.

Table 1: Tablets from Nineveh in the British Museum, by collection.

Museum collections Excavators Number 48-7-20, 48-11-4 Layard (1847) 10 K Layard, Ross, C. Rassam 22202 (1849-51) H. & C. Rassam (1852-54) DT, Sm Smith (1873, 1874) 2580 Rm, Rm 2, 79-7-8 etc. H. Rassam (1878-1882) 4744 Bu. Budge (1889) 416 Ki. King (1901, 1903-1904) 389 Th. Thompson (1904-1905) 422 BM 121005 ff. Thompson (1927-1932) 1232 Total number of tablets and fragments 31995

The many joins made between fragments from the K collection

23 Reade, Archaeology and the Kuyunjik Archives, p. 213. 24 For example, George Smith noted two parts of a tablet of as from the North Palace (A.R. George, The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic: Introduction, Critical Edition and Cuneiform Texts, Oxford 2003, pp. 386-387, MS O); L.W. King reported a fragment of Gilgamesh among tablets found in 1903/1904 in various chambers of the South-West Palace (George, The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic, p. 388, MS BB). 25 For the subsequent history of the Kuyunjik tablets in the British Museum see C.B.F. Walker, The Kouyunjik Collection of Cuneiform Texts: Formation, Problems, and Prospects, in Austen Henry Layard tra l’Oriente e Venezia, Symposium Internazionale, Venezia, 16-28 ottobre 1983, edited by F.M. Fales - B.J. Hickey, Rome 1987, pp. 183-193. 14 Andrew R. George and the various later batches demonstrate that Layard and the Rassam brothers missed a considerable number of tablets and fragments in 1850 and 1853. George Smith’s excavations in 1873 and 1874, in particular, were essentially a deliberate search through the old diggings and spoil for pieces of tablet that had escaped his predecessors’ notice. He found more than two thousand of them in the South-West Palace, in an area centered on Room 41, with especially many on the «floor of the long gallery» (49)26. Five years later Hormuzd Rassam’s return to Kuyunjik resulted in an even greater harvest of tablets in the old diggings. His last despatch of cases, accessioned in London on 18 January 1883, contained nine hundred fragments and brought his total haul to 4744; unpublished records suggest that this last batch (the 83-1-18 collection) derived mostly from clearing the area around Room 54 of the South- West Palace, about sixty metres from the «chambers of records»27. Some of the tablets in the K collection bear colophons, ownership labels and other data associating them with Ashurbanipal, and the K collection soon became known as Ashurbanipal’s library. Ashurbanipal did not found the library at Nineveh, for the copying tablets for the royal collection is already attested in the reign of his father Esarhaddon, but it was certainly much enlarged by him. Many tablets bore his library mark and later Babylonian scholars recalled their ancestors’ role in feeding his appetite for texts of all kinds28. Because he had found Ashurbanipal’s North Palace, Hormuzd Rassam later claimed the «library of Assur- bani-pal» as his personal discovery, including the Creation and Deluge tablets first deciphered by George Smith29. He certainly found a good quantity of tablets when opening up the North Palace in late December 1853, but it is far from certain that these included Smith’s Creation and Deluge tablets. There is no doubt that tablets from Ashurbanipal’s

26 G. Smith, Assyrian Discoveries. An Account of Explorations and Discoveries on the Site of Nineveh, during 1873 and 1874, London - New York 1875, p. 146, where he claimed «nearly three thousand fragments»: full passage quoted below. 27 Reade, Archaeology and the Kuyunjik Archives, pp. 213-214. Its content also suggests a «specific archaeological background» (Parpola, The Royal Archives of Nineveh, p. 229). 28 G. Frame - A.R. George, The Royal Libraries of Nineveh: New Evidence for King Ashurbanipal’s Tablet Collecting, «Iraq», 67 (2005), pp. 265-284. 29 H. Rassam, Asshur and the Land of Nimrod, New York 1897, pp. V, 31, 53. Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 15 collection were also stored in the South-West Palace, because tablets that name him occur among even the lowest K numbers30. The royal library, if it was ever a single collection, had been split between the two palaces, and the evidence suggests that there were rather more in the South-West Palace than in the North Palace31. The royal library was a mixture of archival and legal documents and texts from the traditional lore of the literate professions, including a small percentage of narrative poetry and other literature. Study of the dates and palaeography of the archival and legal documents has made it clear that the tablets in the K collection itself, and in the supplementary batches that provide joins to the K tablets, date back at least to the time of Ashurbanipal’s great-grandfather, Sargon II, at the end of the eighth century32. One quarter date to his reign (722-705 BC), and half to the reigns of Esarhaddon and Ashurbanipal (681-630? BC). The complete absence of archival tablets from the reign of Sennacherib (704-682 BC) and the relatively small number from the last three decades of the empire is very striking: the collection has the look of a dead archive. The impression gained from the non-archival texts is similar33. Many of the literary and professional texts are dated by colophon and label to the reign of Ashurbanipal, and library records report active copying and collecting in his reign. On grounds of paleography, some tablets are certainly older than that, and documentary evidence shows that a copying project was already in progress under Esarhaddon. Tablets from old private collections, such as that of Nabû-zuqup-kēnu of Kalhu (fl. 716-683 bc), were incorporated in the royal collection. There is nothing explicitly later than Ashurbanipal. It thus seems certain that what Layard and subsequent excavators

30 e.g. K 17, a letter of king Ashurbanipal to [Nabû-ušabši] (SAA 21 28); K 211, a decree of tax-exemption made by king Ashurbanipal to the chief quartermaster (SAA 3 25); K 231, a tablet incised with Ashurbanipal’s property label (SB Gilgameš VI MS A). 31 Reade, Archaeology and the Kuyunjik Archives, pp. 218-221. A further group of Ashurbanipal’s tablets was intended by him for the library of the temple of the god Nabû, just south of the North Palace (J. Reade, Ninive (Nineveh), «Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie», 9 (2000), pp. 388-433: cf. p. 423). 32 Parpola, The Royal Archives of Nineveh. 33 George, The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic, pp. 381-391; Frame-George, The Royal Libraries of Nineveh, pp. 277-280. 16 Andrew R. George found were old archives dispersed in different parts of the citadel complex, with particular concentrations in the South-West and North Palaces. The state archives live at the time of Assyria’s conquest and the fall of Nineveh have not been found. Kertai plausibly suggests that the obvious place for these archives would be the offices of government officials, which he supposes not to have been south of the Throne Room but in the courtyard in front of it (H) and in an outer courtyard to the north34. These courtyards have not been fully explored.

The original location of the tablets

As we have seen, Layard believed that when his workmen had found the great collection of cuneiform tablets in May 1850, they had found them in the tablets’ original location. This identification is now refuted by the identification of Rooms 40 and 41 as a bathroom suite, and by the apparent absence of the conventional storage fixtures. Unarmed with this modern knowledge, George Smith brought a different view of the problem. He was despatched Nineveh specifically to find cuneiform tablets for the British Museum, and reopened the excavation of Layard’s «chambers of records» in January 1873. He later reported as follows:

I found nearly three thousand fragments of tablets in the chambers round Layard’s library chamber, and from the positions of these fragments I am led to the opinion that the library was not originally in these chambers but in an upper storey of the palace, and that on the ruin of the building they fell into the chambers below. Some of the chambers in which I found inscribed tablets had no communication with each other, while fragments of the same tablets were in them; and looking at this fact, and the positions and distribution of the fragments, the hypothesis that the library was in the upper storey of the palace seems to me the most likely one. [...] In the long gallery [Room 49], which contained scenes representing the moving of winged figures, I found a great number of tablets, mostly along the floor; they included syllabaries, bilingual lists, mythological and historical tablets. [...]

34 Kertai, The Architecture of Late Assyrian Palaces, pp. 146-147. Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 17

South of this there were numerous tablets round Layard’s old library chamber35. Smith’s theory that the tablets had been stored on an upper storey, in chambers immediately above Rooms 40 and 41, was readvocated in 1996 by Laura Battini, who noted the unsuitability for scribal activity of Rooms 40, 41 and other chambers where tablets and sealings were found36. GeoffreyT urner also adhered to Smith’s view, that the tablets had fallen from an upper storey. At the same time he noted the distribution of tablets throughout the palace and observed that it was «most probable that Ashurbanipal and/or his successors used various rooms of this building as a depository for the Library and other archives when such rooms were no longer required for their original purpose»37. The difficulty with the upper-storey theory has been pointed out by David Kertai:

The walls of a second storey must have stood on top of those below. In general one can assume that objects stored above a room collapsed into the room below. It seems highly implausible for parts of a single object to end up in two rooms by falling down [from above] as this would entail one part of the object to have overcome the presence of walls separating the rooms38. Turner’s theory of deposition in various rooms of the palace is taken up by Kertai, who writes further, «Room 41, which formed a vestibule to bathroom 40, became the storage place for a considerable part of Ashurbanipal’s famous library»39. He sees this as one of several changes to Sennacherib’s palace that «seem to date to the reign of Ashurbanipal». Chief among these is the redecoration with the reliefs depicting Ashurbanipal’s victories; less well known is the reflooring of parts of the palace, including the paving of the Throne Room Courtyard (H)

35 Smith, Assyrian Discoveries, pp. 144-147. 36 Battini, La localisation des archives. 37 G. Turner, The Architecture of the Palace, in Sculptures from the Southwest Palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh, edited by R.D. Barnett - E. Bleibtreu - G. Turner, London 1998, pp. 20-39 (cf. p. 29). 38 Kertai, The Architecture of Late Assyrian Palaces, p. 208. 39 Ibid., p. 146. 18 Andrew R. George and an interior floor in or near Rooms 40 and 4140. It is not clear why he thinks the removal of the library to the bathroom suite and other locations should have taken place in Ashurbanipal’s time. In fact, this seems unlikely, given Ashurbanipal’s clear pride in his collection, stated time and again in the colophons of his tablets. More likely the collection was broken up and scattered after his death. In this regard Turner has already been quoted as citing «Ashurbanipal and/or his successors». But there is another possibility, that the dispersal of the tablets from their original location took place after the fall of Nineveh.

After the fall of Nineveh

The history of the South-West Palace after Ashurbanipal is not well known41. Sîn-shar-ishkun, the last king of Assyria (627?-612 BC), left a building inscription reporting work on part of Sennacherib’s palace42. In his first season Layard found in the Throne Room suite letters sent from Uruk to the same king43. These facts indicate that the palace was in use, probably until the fall of Nineveh. At some point the palace burned. Most tablets within were baked hard in the conflagration, and some even vitrified. Before that the palace was looted and some of its reliefs defaced. The latter activities were no doubt consequent upon the sack of Nineveh by the Medes and Babylonians in 612 BC. But the burning may not have been simultaneous with the looting; it could have occurred weeks, months or even years later. During this time people surely made use of the building. The history of Nineveh in the

40 Kertai does not mention the latter, but it is implied by George Smith’s statement that «in one place, below the level of the floor, I discovered a fine fragment of the history of Assurbanipal, containing new and curious matter relating to his Egyptian wars, and to the affairs of Gyges, king of Lydia» (Smith, Assyrian Discoveries, pp. 144-147). This piece, probably the prism fragment Sm 1 (C. Bezold, Catalogue of the Cuneiform Tablets in the Kouyunjik Collection, Vol. 4, London 1896, p. 1371), must have been part of a foundation deposit under a new floor laid in the reign of Ashurbanipal. 41 Reade, Ninive (Nineveh), p. 415. 42 M. Falkner, Neue Inschriften aus der Zeit Sin-šarru-iškuns, «Archiv für Assyriologie», 16 (1953), pp. 305-310: cf. p. 306. 43 Parpola, The Royal Archives of Nineveh, p. 225 n. 15; above, n. 9. Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 19 later first millennium and late Antiquity is little known, because firm evidence is thin, but it seems there was never a period in which the site was wholly abandoned44. The watercolours made by Malan in June 1850 show the state of parts of the palace immediately after the excavation. In some places the sculpture remained undisturbed, as at Room 38 Entrance i (Fig. 3 left)45. Other evidence gives a different picture. Julian Reade found George Smith’s argument for his upper-storey theory, «inconclusive in view of the later disturbance of the site»46. It is in the context of that later disturbance that the final resting places of the tablets should be considered. One of Malan’s watercolours, in particular, shows considerable disorder in the monumental sculpture in one of the locations where tablets were found, Gallery 49 (Fig. 3 right)47. A carved wall slab lies at an angle in the left foreground. Beyond it, part of a Lion-Man lies broken on the floor. On the wall to the left, held in place by a wooden prop, is a carved wall slab. Only seven carved wall slabs are documented for this chamber, placed against the north wall48. The many other slabs on that wall and all on the opposite wall had evidently been removed. Layard’s manuscript notes report:

The south side of this long gallery has been completely destroyed. The first slabs to the East on the North side, representing an obelisk or large stone on a boat drawn by men, have been drawn. Beyond these was found, in the fragments, the lion-headed figure in two pieces, sent to England, and several fragments representing the removal of Bulls or some such large objects and the king superintending49.

44 S. Dalley, Nineveh After 612 BC, «Altorientalische Forschungen», 20 (1993), pp. 134-147; J. Reade, Greco-Parthian Nineveh, «Iraq», 60 (1998), pp. 65-84; Id., More about Adiabene, «Iraq», 63 (2001), pp. 187-199 (cf. pp. 428-429); St.J. Simpson, Christians at Nineveh in Late Antiquity, «Iraq», 67 (2005), pp. 285-294. 45 Clayden, Two New Prints of Layard’s Excavations at Nimrud, p. 53 no. 26. 46 Reade, Archaeology and the Kuyunjik Archives, p. 220. 47 Clayden, Two New Prints of Layard’s Excavations at Nimrud, p. 54 no. 28. 48 Bleibtreu, Catalogue of Sculptures, pp. 119-121. 49 Russell, Layard’s Descriptions of Rooms in the Southwest Palace at Nineveh, p. 79, Chamber O [49]. 20 Andrew R. George

Malan’s viewpoint, in which the carved wall slabs are on the left, is thus from within Gallery 49, facing north-east, and showing, beyond the foreground debris, the tunnel through the doorways into Rooms 48 and 12. The decoration of these three chambers and the doorways that link them is fully recorded50, and seems to leave no space for the broken slab bearing the Lion-Man. Additionally, as we have seen, the Lion-Man has a special function in the South-West Palace: to protect bathrooms. The Lion-Man found in Gallery 49 was thus clearly in a secondary position, like the slab in front of it. A second Lion- Man slab, broken off above the knees, was found near the palace’s throne-room suite, in Entrance a between Court 6 and Room 5, also a secondary location51. The findspots of the two Lion-Men speak for more than defacement by the occupying army. It would seem that some effort was made to remove these and other pieces of sculpture entirely, an operation that was perhaps abandoned when, during the course of their transportation through the palace, the slabs broke. The loss of most of the wall-slabs in Gallery 49 suggests that this space in particular was deliberately plundered of stone, working from the south-west in. The purpose in moving large pieces of stone out of the palace was no doubt to reuse them. Archaeological evidence shows that parts of both palaces on Kuyunjik were overbuilt in the Parthian period, and that the new buildings made use of limestone slabs and fragments taken from the old palaces52. Julian Reade has conjectured on the decline of the buildings of Nineveh after the fire:

The contents of the large Assyrian mudbrick buildings in the city must have been set alight, but mudbrick is not combustible and the fire would not have destroyed the walls themselves. An unmaintained

50 Bleibtreu, Catalogue of Sculptures, pp. 74-76 (Room 12); 117-121 (Room 48 and Gallery 49). 51 See Kertai, The Guardians at the Doors, p. 342; Bleibtreu, Catalogue of Sculptures, p. 57 no. 61c. 52 Reade, Ninive (Nineveh), p. 428; Id., More about Adiabene, p. 191; T. Madhloom, Nineveh. The 1967-68 Campaign, «Sumer», 24 (1968), pp. 45-52 (cf. p. 50). Layard of Nineveh and the tablets of Nineveh 21

mudbrick wall exposed to the weather gradually disintegrates or falls, filling the space at its feet; but, if it is solid enough, the process may take centuries53. Whether or not the South-West Palace was burnt in 612 BC or at some later time, the window of time open for entering the building and plundering its materials was probably not short. Some chambers seem to have been accessible some hundreds of years after the fall of Nineveh, and still liable to pillage for stone in the Parthian period. What then of the clay tablets found on the floor of Gallery 49, and in greater numbers nearby in Rooms 40 and 41? Given that the South-West Palace was subject to disturbance over a considerable period of time, it is impossible to do more than speculate on when tablets of the royal library came to be distributed as they were found, so that fragments of the same tablet came to rest in unconnected chambers, and what caused this distribution. If, as it seems, the palace was not abruptly lost to sight in 612 bc, but remained accessible, then they could have been removed to the positions in which they were discovered not before the fall of Nineveh, but afterwards – even long afterwards. However, one scenario strikes me as particularly plausible. This is that, soon after the Babylonian army took control of the palaces on Kuyunjik, intelligence officers entered the palaces of Nineveh and sorted through the royal archives, looking for useful knowledge54. They retained theA ssyrian king’s recent correspondence for removal to Babylon or some other location where it might be studied at leisure, for it surely contained much important political and military intelligence of interest to them. Remember that Sîn-shar-ishkun’s correspondence is exactly that observed above to be lacking from the library found by Layard, Rassam and their successors. What did not interest them they

53 Reade, More about Adiabene, p. 191. Dalley writes similarly (Dalley, Nineveh After 612 BC, p. 136): «The neo-Assyrians [...] built such massive and sturdy buildings that they could not be obliterated overnight [...] The main buildings would last for centuries if the roofing, perhaps only patchily, could be maintained». 54 a similar sorting process had occurred in Zimri-Lim’s palace after the fall of Mari to Hammurapi’s army, eleven hundred years earlier (D. Charpin, La fin des archives dans le palais de Mari, «Revue d’Assyriologie», 89 (1995), pp. 29-40). 22 Andrew R. George stored out of the way in various locations, but especially in a disused bathroom suite in the South-West Palace. During the process of secondary storage, it can be imagined that the unwanted tablets suffered from rough treatment, and thus that parts of some tablets broke off during transport and ended up in rooms unconnected with one another, just as George Smith recorded. Later, the palace burned and the tablets were buried by a thick layer of ash. Further disturbances perhaps occurred, until eventually the walls crumbled away and Sennacherib’s palace became the shapeless ruin that so captured Layard’s attention in 1840. Fig. 1 - Reade, Plan of the South-West Palace on Kuyunjik, from Id., Ninive (Nineveh), p. 413, with Entrances g, h and i of Rooms 38-41 marked. 23 Fig. 2 - (left) Chevalier’s lithograph of Room 41, entitled Archive Chamber Kouyunjik, from Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, facing p. 345, based on (right) Malan’s watercolour sketch, annotated «Kouyounjik June 17th», from Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace, Vol. 2, pl. 368.

Fig. 3 - Malan’s watercolour sketches of (left) Room 38 Entrance i, annotated “Kouyounjik June 15th”, from Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace, Vol. 2, pl. 361, and (right) Gallery 49, annotated «Kouyounjik June 17th», from Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace, Vol. 2, pl. 415. 24 Silvia Alaura1

Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce: An Anatolian Perspective

Abstract One of the less well-known aspects of the multifaceted life and career of Austen Henry Layard is his role in the history of the pre-classical archaeology of Anatolia, which primarily dates back to the period when he was ambassador at Constantinople. This is documented by his contacts with the Anglican clergyman Archibald Henry Sayce, Professor of Comparative Philology, and later of Assyriology, at Oxford. My paper focuses on the correspondence between Layard and Sayce in the years 1879-1880 and on other unpublished documents preserved in archives in Oxford and London. Further information concerning Layard’s role in this formative phase of Anatolian studies can be obtained from the letters – also unpublished – that both Layard and Sayce exchanged in the same period with the German archaeologist Heinrich Schliemann, already well-known for his excavations in Greece and in the Troad. These materials shed light on practices and methods of the orientalists in the mid-Victorian era.

One of the least-known and most under-investigated aspects of the multifaceted life and career of Austen Henry Layard (1817-1894) is his role in the history of the pre-classical archaeology of Anatolia, which primarily dates back to the period when he was British ambassador

1 I wish to express my gratitude to the Department of Special Collections and Western Manuscripts of the Bodleian Library, Oxford, The Queen’s College, Oxford, the GriffithI nstitute, Oxford, the British Library, London, and TheA thenaeum Club, London, for their kind permission to study and publish their archival materials. My manuscript has been greatly enhanced by constructive comments from Stefania Ermidoro and Marco Bonechi. I thank Adam Thorn for his revision of my English manuscript. 26 Silvia Alaura at Constantinople, i.e. from April 1877 to May 1880 (Figs. 1-2)2. Actually, such a role does not emerge from Layard’s Memoirs of his ambassadorship to , which, together with the diaries of his wife Mary Enid Evelyn (née Guest, 1843-1912) for the same period, are the primary source for the study of these three momentous years3. This role is not even apparent from Layard’s diplomatic correspondence. Rather, Layard’s involvement in this formative phase of Anatolian research is documented in his contacts with the Anglican clergyman Archibald Henry Sayce (1845-1933), a younger scholar who, at the end of the 1870s, was focusing his studies on the Hittites in Asia Minor (Fig. 3)4. Shortly afterwards, Sayce became Deputy Professor of Comparative Philology, and later (1891) of Assyriology, at Oxford (Fig. 4)5. The relationship between Layard and Sayce has not so far been adequately investigated. This is mainly to be attributed to the fact that Sayce (unlike Layard) has until now been largely ignored by historians and academics, or viewed with increasing criticism and even disdain. Indeed, although a residual appreciation of the value of his work has

2 on Layard as British ambassador in Constantinople see A. Clarke, Layard and Diplomacy, in Austen Henry Layard tra l’Oriente e Venezia, Symposium Internazionale, Venezia 26-28 ottobre 1983, edited by F.M. Fales - B.J. Hickey, Rome 1987, pp. 93-100; see also the article by J.P. Parry in this volume. 3 TheMemoirs and the diaries, kept in the Western Manuscripts Department of the British Library in London, have been fully published in S. Kuneralp, ed., The Queen’s Ambassador to the Sultan: Memoirs of Sir Henry A. Layard’s Constantinople Embassy, 1877- 1880, Istanbul 2009, and Id., Twixt Pera and Therapia: The Constantinople Diaries of Lady Layard, Istanbul 2010. The Layards’ arrival at Constantinople is described by Enid in her letter to Charlotte Maria Guest (Lady Layard’s eldest sister) dated 27 April 1877, kept in the Layard Collection of Newcastle University; see the article by S. Ermidoro in this volume. 4 on Sayce see, among others, S.H. Langdon, Archibald Henry Sayce as Assyriologist, «Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland», 2 (1933), pp. 499- 503; J. Garstang, Archibald Henry Sayce, «Annals of Archaeology and Anthropology», 20 (1933), pp. 195-196; R.L. Belton, A Non-Traditional Traditionalist: Rev. A.H. Sayce and His Intellectual Approach to Biblical Authenticity and Biblical History in Late-Victorian Britain (Diss., Louisiana State University), Baton Rouge 2007. 5 For Sayce and the beginnings of Oxford Assyriology see S. Alaura - M. Bonechi, Dreaming of an International Discipline - Archibald H. Sayce, Cosmopolitanism and Assyriology at Oxford, in Towards a History of Assyriology, (Proceedings of the 64ème RAI, Innsbruck, July 16-20, 2018), edited by H. Neumann - S. Fink, Münster forthcoming (Investigatio Orientis). Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 27 remained in some scientific fields, most of the agenda behind Sayce’s work has lost its relevance and simply no longer fits in with prevailing scholarly interests. However, Sayce’s prominence as a public intellectual, and his copious correspondence with leading contemporary scholars and cultural figures for most of his long life, placed him in the thick of that intense network that formed the backbone of the Victorian establishment. The documents I present below, almost all unpublished, are preserved in archives in Oxford and in the British Library, London6. These materials enrich our picture of the collaborations and connections between the founders of what would subsequently become the various specialised disciplines of Ancient Near Eastern studies, thus helping to shed light on the intellectual complexities and the practices and methods of the orientalists in the mid-Victorian era. In this way, I hope with this article to extend our evaluation of Layard’s contribution to include subjects not examined before.

Layard was among the scholars who exercised the greatest influence upon Sayce’s formative years. As Sayce describes in his 1923 autobiography entitled Reminiscences, as a schoolboy he began to study cuneiform by analysing the lists of personal and geographical names in Layard’s account of his second expedition, Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon7:

My introduction to Babylonia and the cuneiform characters must have taken place before the attack of typhoid fever, as I remember that the pleasantest hours of my convalescence were passed in dreaming that I was floating on a raft down theT igris past Nineveh and Assur and great bulls inscribed with “arrow-headed” script. When I ceased to

6 On Sayce’s unpublished Oxford papers see the overview in S. Alaura - M. Bonechi, Archibald Henry Sayce and his Papers at The Queen’s College, Oxford, «The Queen’s College Library Insight», 8 (2018), pp. 14-20. 7 A.H. Layard, Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon; With Travels in Armenia, Kurdistan and the Desert: Being the Result of a Second Expedition Undertaken for The Trustees of the British Museum, London - New York 1853. A cheaper and more popular version was published in 1867. On the publication of Layard’s Nineveh and Babylon see I.M. Keighren - Ch.W.J. Withers - B. Bell, Travels into Print: Exploration, Writing, and Publishing with John Murray, 1773-1859, Chicago 2015, 171ff. 28 Silvia Alaura

dream and was able to leave my bed, I amused myself with copying the cuneiform representatives of the proper and geographical names given towards the end of Layard’s Nineveh and Babylon, and with analysing them into their elements, so that by the time I could go to school again I had acquired a knowledge of the phonetic values of a good many cuneiform signs. It was the beginning of my work in Assyriology8. Years later, Layard was one of the highly significant persons9 Sayce met in London, at the Athenaeum Club (Figs. 5-6). The Athenaeum, at 107 Pall Mall, south of Burlington House, was particularly popular among the scientific and literary elite10, and was one of the places of meeting and discussion for the orientalists of the 1870s where the initial debate about the Hittites also developed11. The club was characterised by the wide range of amenities it offered, from dining facilities to libraries, and by its well-defined procedures for the selection of members. Sayce, whose membership was proposed by Herbert Spencer and Matthew Arnold, said his election «was the greatest boon conferred upon me. It gave me a delightful home in London, where I found all the books and periodicals I needed as well as the society I most enjoyed»12.

8 A.H. Sayce, Reminiscences, London 1923, p. 19. On Layard’s contribution to Assyriology, which has long been underestimated, see S. Ermidoro, Not Only Nineveh and Its Remains: A.H. Layard’s Contribution to Assyriology, in Dealing with Antiquity – Past, Present, and Future (63ème RAI, Marburg, July 24-28, 2017), edited by W. Sommerfeld, Münster 2020 (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 460), pp. 211-224, and the article by A.R. George in this volume. 9 on Layard’s public reputation see the article by J.P. Parry in this volume. 10 For a history of the Athenaeum Club see H. Ward, History of the Athenaeum 1824- 1925, London 1926; F.R. Cowell, The Athenaeum: Club and Social Life in London, 1824- 1974, London 1975; B. Black, A Room of His Own: A Literary-Cultural Study of Victorian Clubland, Athens (Ohio) 2012, esp. pp. 59-64; W.C. Lubenow, “Only Connect”: Learned Societies in Nineteenth-Century Britain, Woodbridge 2015, esp. pp. 125-127, 133-134, 152; M. Wheeler, The Athenaeum: More Than Just Another London Club, New Haven 2020, forthcoming. 11 See S. Alaura, Setting the stage for Hittite Studies in Victorian England: practices and methods of the 1870s, «Anabases», 26 (2017), pp. 33-52. See also D.M. Wilson, The British Museum and the Athenaeum, in Armchair Athenians: essays from Athanæum life, edited by J. Thompson - G. Philo - B. Boucher, London 2001, pp. 226-236. 12 Sayce, Reminiscences, p. 124. On the significance of the Athenaeum Club see S. Collini, Public Moralists: Political Thought and Intellectual Life in Britain, 1850-1930, Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 29

The orientalists were members of a smaller dining club within the Athenaeum that included – besides Layard – Henry Rawlinson (one of the fathers of Assyriology), James Fergusson (the architect and art historian specialising in ancient Mesopotamian, Egyptian and Indian art, and manager of the Crystal Palace Company), William Sandys Wright Vaux (who from November 1875 until his death in 1885 was Secretary of the Royal Asiatic Society, and whose publications did much to popularise the oriental antiquities discovered by Layard), and Thomas Kerr Lynch (the Irish explorer who was proposed as a member of the Athenaeum by Lord Dufferin)13. In the 1870s temporary, honorary membership of the Athenaeum Club was conferred on the celebrated German archaeologist Heinrich Schliemann, who had achieved fame for his archaeological excavations in the Troad14. The orientalists’ dinners, which took place at seven o’clock on Sunday evening at the Athenaeum Club, are described in abundant detail by Sayce in his aforementioned autobiography15. It is in this context that Sayce probably discussed in a preliminary way the idea that the inscriptions from both Syria and Anatolia should be attributed to the Hittites. Indeed, during the 1870s the debate in Britain about

Oxford 1991, pp. 15-24. More generally, for the role played by the clubs in Victorian society see S.A. Thévoz, Club Government: How the Early Victorian World was Ruled from London Clubs, London 2018. 13 on Thomas Kerr Lynch, author of Across Mesopotamia to (1879) and The Navigation of the Euphrates and Tigris (1884), see E. Baigent, Lynch, Thomas Kerr (1818- 1891), Explorer in Mesopotamia, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (online edition, January 2008: https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/17261, last accessed 15 November 2019). His son Henry Finnis Blosse Lynch, traveller and businessman for his family’s commercial firm, Lynch Brothers, which acted as local agents for the Euphrates and Tigris Steam Navigation Company, was also a member of the Athenaeum Club. He was the author of the renowned two-volume 1901 book Armenia: Travels and Studies, with which he was also helped by Sayce. On Henry Finnis Blosse Lynch see Who Was Who, Vol. 1, 1897-1916, London 1920, p. 443. 14 Schliemann was first proposed for membership by James Fergusson; see D.A. Traill, Schliemann of Troy: Treasure and Deceit, London 1995, pp. 198-199. 15 Sayce, Reminiscences, pp. 123-124. See also R. Nevill, London Clubs: Their History & Treasures, Vol. 2, London 1911, p. 280 («Intellect rather than love of comfort formerly distinguished most members of the club, and for this reason, perhaps, the Athenaeum has never been noted for its cooking. “Asiatic Sundays” was the name given to the Sabbaths, on which curry and rice always appeared on the bill of fare.»). 30 Silvia Alaura the Hittites was not conducted in the universities but rather in social settings such as the gentlemen’s clubs and learned societies, then the key sites of intellectual innovation and knowledge formation. Every space in London where the learned met and mingled could serve as a stage upon which orientalists showed each other the progress they had made in their researches, testing out their new ideas. The year 1879 marked a turning point in the relationship between Sayce and Layard, and was also pivotal in Sayce’s scientific life. At the Athenaeum, in a lecture given on 4 August, then published in the weekly periodical «TheA cademy», Sayce proposed that all the monuments with associated hieroglyphic inscriptions from Syria and Anatolia should be attributed to the Hittites16. Sayce himself described this as «my Hittite theory of 1879»17. A few days after his Athenaeum lecture, Sayce began the first of his travels through the East. To that end, Sayce turned to Layard, perhaps meeting him in person. In the spring of 1879 Layard was indeed in London and attended the Athenaeum Club, as shown by Enid’s diaries18. It is very likely that in this period Sayce made arrangements with Layard, exploiting his diplomatic position. Sayce’s appreciation of Layard as ambassador shines out in this passage from his autobiography:

It was an interesting moment in the history of the , and Sir Henry Layard, who was now our Ambassador at Constantinople

16 A.H. Sayce, The Origin of Early Art in Asia Minor, «The Academy», 16, 380 (Aug. 16, 1879), p. 124. On «The Academy» see G. Beer, The Academy: Europe in England, in Science Serialized: Representations of the Sciences in Nineteenth-Century Periodicals, edited by G.N. Cantor - S. Shuttleworth, Cambridge MA 2004, pp. 181-198. 17 Sayce, Reminiscences, p. 162. See A. Alaura, Lost, Denied, (Re)Constructed: The Identity of the Hittites and Luwians in the Historiographical Debate of the Late 19th and Early 20th Centuries, in Transformations and Crisis in the Mediterranean. “Identity” and Interculturality in the Levant and Phoenician West during the 12th-8th Centuries BCE, edited by G. Garbati - T. Pedrazzi, Pisa - Rome 2015 (Supp. RSF XLII 2014), p. 30. 18 see for example the entries of 10 March 1879 («I went to the Atheneum [sic] & picked up Henry») and 15 March 1879 («Went to club to fetch Henry»). During the same days the Layards visited the Queen at Windsor, with whom Layard spoke of the Sultan. See Layard’s account of his six weeks in England and his meeting with the Queen in Kuneralp, The Queen’s Ambassador, pp. 544-551. For the good relationship between and Layard in the years of his ambassadorship in Constantinople see K. Bourne, Layard in politics, in Fales-Hickey, eds., Austen Henry Layard, pp. 89-91. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 31

and omnipotent in Turkish Councils, had asked me to visit him […]. It was a very interesting moment at Constantinople. The Russian war was over; Abdul Hamid had been called to the throne by Midhat and the Young Turkish party, and politicians were once more dreaming of their ability to settle the Eastern Question. Sir Henry Layard had stepped into the position formerly held by “the great Elchi,” Lord Stratford de Redcliffe19, and, as I have said, was now omnipotent in Turkey. The Turks regarded him as a friend; he was acquainted with their language, habits, manners and ideas; he was, moreover, a man of extraordinary ability, full of intellectual and physical vigour, who had made his own way in the world, unspoilt by the debilitating atmosphere of the British diplomatic service. Just now he was called upon to carry out the conditions of the Convention with Turkey which had given us the possession of Cyprus, and to see that in return Asia Minor should be provided with a just and firm government20. Sayce’s high opinion of Layard was not shared by everyone in England. Layard’s ambassadorship was a highly problematic one during a momentous period, and he inevitably ran into difficulties with both the British and the Ottoman governments. At home, Layard’s diplomatic skills were acrimoniously called into question, especially by William Gladstone’s faction by leveraging British public opinion through the press. Layard was easily lampooned, as is evident from a scathing caricature by Edward Linley Sambourne, published in the humorous weekly magazine «Punch» on 2 March 1878, in which the Nineveh Bull with Layard’s head (and ‘Layard’ written on the bull’s wing) is shown ploughing into an Eastern-looking china shop, knocking over vases with labels such as ‘Caution’ and ‘Diplomatic Propriety’ (Fig. 7)21.

19 «Great ambassador» (büyük Elçi) in Turkish. The British diplomat and politician Stratford Canning held his first appointment as Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire between 1825 and 1828. In 1841 he was re-appointed as Ambassador in Constantinople, a position he held for the next 17 years. In 1852 he was raised to the peerage as Viscount Stratford de Redcliffe. See S. Richmond, The Voice of England in the East: Stratford Canning and Diplomacy with the Ottoman Empire, London - New York 2014 (Library of Ottoman Studies, 35), esp. pp. 17-18, on the misuse of the title ‘Great Elchi’. 20 Sayce, Reminiscences, pp. 162-163. 21 «Punch, or the London Charivari», 74 (2 March 1878), p. 86 («Punch’s Essence of Parliament»). For the political context of this illustration see G. Waterfield, Layard 32 Silvia Alaura

Preserved at The Queen’s College, Oxford, there is a letter from Arthur Nicolson – the well-known British diplomat and politician, then second secretary at the embassy at Constantinople – which at the very beginning of September 1879 confirmed to Sayce that Layard would be available to meet him at the summer residence of the British embassy at Therapia:

Sir, I am desired by the British Ambassador to inform you that he will be very happy to see you in case you may be coming down to Therapia. Yours faithfully A. Nicolson22. Sayce used the back of this letter to make notes during the journey, and it contains his first drawings and sketches of some Anatolian monuments, written in pencil but still legible. The large state dinner party held on the evening of Sayce’s arrival at the embassy at Therapia, attended by most of theT urkish ministers and leading European diplomats, is briefly mentioned in the diaries of Lady Layard, at the end of a description of one of her typical days at Therapia:

Saturday. 6th [September 1879]. Blanche & Edward drove in to Pera to be photod. I had my Turkish lesson – Alice a singing lesson. Mrs Privilegio came to ask for money for the poor. Dr Dickson came to luncheon & also Mrs Walker. I arranged with her that she should go as dame de compagnie with P[rince]ss Halim when she goes to Europe. Sat out in the grove whilst the others were playing lawn tennis – & then came in & wrote. B[lanche] & E[dward] came home ab[ou]t 4. The Mantillas called. Prof. Sayce, Mr [Laurence] Oliphant23 &c dined. The of Nineveh, London 1963, pp. 400ff., andK.M. McGeough, The Ancient Near East in the Nineteenth Century: Appreciations and Appropriations. Vol I. Claiming and Conquering, Sheffield 2015 (Hebrew Bible Monographs, 67), pp. 135-136, with fig. 3.16. See also Layard’s description of the attacks he suffered in the press in Kuneralp, The Queen’s Ambassador, p. 551. 22 a. Nicolson to A.H. Sayce, Therapia, September 1, 1879, The Queen’s College, Oxford, Sayce Papers, MS. 759/5-3. 23 laurence Oliphant was a South African-born British author, traveller, diplomat and controversial Christian mystic, who submitted to the Sultan a plan for large-scale Jewish settlement in Palestine. With letters of recommendation from Lord Beaconsfield Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 33

chancery & the Dicksons came in afterwards & we had singing all the even[in]g24. However, the same dinner party at Therapia is described in far more detail by Sayce in his Reminiscences25. Of particular interest is the account of the long conversation that Sayce had with Layard, during which the latter recalled his youthful adventures that took place immediately before his excavations in Assyria, when Stratford Canning, the long- time British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, employed him in various unofficial diplomatic missions and confidential assignments in Turkey26. They also included the story, otherwise unknown, of Layard’s engagement as a guide and travelling companion of a certain Mr Grace (a young Englishman, son of a wealthy Alexandrian merchant), en route through Asia Minor. As Sayce reports, Layard’s recollection was prompted by the presence of Grace himself at the Therapia dinner. This episode in Layard’s youth, which does not feature either in Layard’s Early Adventures or in his Autobiography27, is also mentioned in a lengthy unpublished manuscript written by Sayce and titled The Heroic Age of Assyriology, kept at The Queen’s College, Oxford28: and Lord Salisbury, he went to Palestine in 1879. Oliphant’s stay in Constantinople in these months of 1879 should be understood in this context; see M. Oliphant, Memoir of the Life of Laurence Oliphant and of Alice Oliphant, His Wife, Vol. 2, New York 1891, pp. 173-188. 24 Kuneralp, Twixt Pera and Therapia,p. 199. 25 Sayce, Reminiscences, pp. 163-165. 26 On the cooperation between Canning and Layard see S. Lane-Poole, The life of the Right Hon. Stratford Canning, Viscount Stratford de Redcliffe, from his memoirs and private and official papers, Vol. 2, London 1888, pp. 123, 137-139, 149ff., and passim. More particularly, on their collaboration in the excavation and export of artefacts from Nineveh see Sh. Malley, Layard Enterprise: Victorian Archaeology and Informal Imperialism in Mesopotamia, «International Journal of Middle East Studies», 40 (2008), pp. 623-646. 27 A.H. Layard, Early Adventures in Persia, Susiana and Babylonia, Including a Residence Among the Bakhtiyari and Other Wild Tribes Before the Discovery of Nineveh, London 1887, and Id., Autobiography and Letters From His Childhood Until His Appointment as H.M. Ambassador at Madrid, edited by W.N. Bruce, 2 vols, London 1903. 28 A.H. Sayce, The Heroic Age of Assyriology, undated manuscript, 12 pages (The Queen’s College, Oxford, MS 759/1 – 1.7.5). This text was read by Sayce at the Seventeenth International Congress of Orientalists, held at Oxford between 28 August and 1 September 1928. See S. Alaura - M. Bonechi, “The Heroic Age of Assyriology”: An unpublished manuscript of Archibald H. Sayce at The Queen’s College, Oxford, forthcoming. 34 Silvia Alaura

Layard, too, I knew well. I stayed with him at Therapia in the summer of 1879 in the days when he was British Ambassador & omnipotent in Constantinople. One evening an incident occurred which caused him to tell me the story of a very interesting period in his life, little if at all known to his friends & consequently unpublished. That afternoon an old friend of his, Mr. Grace by name, had arrived from , & in the evening there was a large state dinner-party at which several of the Turkish Ministers were present as well as some of the foreign ambassadors & Hobart , the British Admiral of the Turkish fleet. When the ladies had retired Layard asked me to sit by him & be introduced to Mr. Grace. Then looking round the table he said: “The first time I saw Constantinople I little thought I should ever be entertaining a company like this. I owe it all to my old friend Grace; when I first visited Constantinople I often did not know where to look for a dinner”. Then he went on to tell me how after the death of his father, who had left a large family behind him with slender means of support, an uncle who was a coffee-planter in Ceylon had asked him to come & join him there. Layard had always had a passionate desire to explore the East & accordingly instead of proceeding to Ceylon by ship he started to do so by land. The result was that by the time he had reached the eastern side of the Jordan the money provided for the journey by his uncle was nearly all exhausted & he was forced to travel on foot. Then he was captured by the Beduin & for about six months was a slave in their camp. He eventually managed, however, to escape & made his way to where, ragged, half-starving & in Arab dress he knocked at the gate of the British Consulate. The Consul believed his story & provided him with clean clothes & a few coins. Thereupon he made his way on foot thro’ Asia Minor to Constantinople, dependent to a large extent on the hospitality of the Turkish peasants & picking up their language at the same time. In Constantinople he called on Sir Stratford de Redcliffe, at that time the British Ambassador there, who was evidently favourably impressed by the young man & told him to give him his address. The only address he could give, it seems, was that of a Frank chemist. Shortly afterwards young Grace arrived, with the intention Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 35

of making a tour in Asia Minor, & asked the Ambassador if he could recommend a dragoman. “No”, said Sir Stratford, “but there is a young Englishman here who I think would just suit you. He has been tramping thro’ Asia Minor on foot, knows the people & speaks sufficientT urkish for your purpose”. Layard was accordingly sent for & engaged as dragoman. Before the tour was finished he had ceased to be dragoman & became Grace’s friend & fellow-traveller. He was again furnished with means for accomplishing his journey to Ceylon, but on this second occasion did not get further than Mosul. The rest of the story I heard from James Fergusson the architect. Botta was at the time excavating at Khorsabad. Here, therefore, Layard remained & made drawings of some of the objects that had been found. These he sent to London together with a statement that similar discoveries would be made further south, opposite Mosul, on the site of Nineveh, & that if the requisite amount of money could be sent to him he would undertake to excavate there for the British Museum. The drawings were shown to Fergusson as an architectural expert & he at once determined that the chance should not be thrown away. After a talk with John Murray, the publisher, sufficient money was collected & sent by them to commence the excavations & a small fund was started which resulted in the discovery of the palaces & monuments of the ancient Assyrian kings29. This passage, together with an amusing account concerning a delicious-looking poisoned cake that was served with tea on the lawn of the Embassy at Therapia, confirms what Stephen H. Langdon had written about Sayce years before: «A raconteur of delightful tales, he possesses a mild humour which is rare in our day»30. Layard supported Sayce’s stay in Anatolia in many ways. First of all, Sayce was allowed to examine archaeological and epigraphic finds of the Imperial Museum in Constantinople, newly transferred to Çinili Köşk and still in crates. Sayce’s account of his visit to the museum, in which he warmly thanked Layard and Philipp Anton Dethier, the

29 Sayce, The Heroic Age of Assyriology (see previous footnote), pp. 7-9. 30 S.H. Langdon, Archibald Henry Sayce, «The Expository Times», 31/3 (1 December 1919), pp. 118-123. 36 Silvia Alaura museum’s director at the time31, was immediately sent by Sayce to «The Academy»32. Layard then personally introduced Sayce to Sultan Abdul Hamid II, who had come to power in 1876, in order to facilitate his access to the Anatolian monuments lying in an area that was very dangerous due to brigandage. Sayce had wanted to travel to the Troad years earlier, but he had given up on the advice of Schliemann, who on 20 November 1877 wrote to him from London: «To Troy I would not go now if I were in your place. As soon as the war is over I shall continue the excavations there; shall then always keep a house in readiness for you, and shall be delighted to see you with me. Now travelling in the Troad is very dangerous»33. It is interesting to note that it was in these very days that the British government, via its ambassador Layard, was exerting strong pressure on the Sultan to make political reforms, as attested, inter alia, by an illustration in «Punch», the liberal and politically active publication that mirrored the Victorian public’s mood for social change (Fig. 8)34. It was drawn by the satirical cartoonist John Tenniel, whose fame stems primarily from his drawings for Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland35. Layard himself, together with his wife and her niece, was to leave Therapia a few days later to visit the coast of Asia Minor, Syria and some of the Turkish islands, in order to judge for himself the condition of the Asiatic provinces and to have personal communication with both

31 on Philipp Anton Dethier as a museum curator see M. Afik Işık, Development of Museology in Turkey, in Mauerschau. Festschrift für Manfred Korfmann, edited by R. Aslan et al., Remshalden-Grundbach 2002, Vol. 3, pp. 1169-1170; see also E. Eldem, Philipp Anton Dethier: der Anti-Held der osmanischen Archäologie, in Daheim in Konstantinopel. Deutsche Spuren am Bosporus ab 1850, edited by E. Pauw, Nürnberg 2014, pp. 59-91. 32 A.H. Sayce, Letter from Constantinople, «The Academy», 16, 385 (20 September, 1879), p. 214. 33 H. Schliemann to A.H. Sayce, November 20, 1877, Bodleian Library, Oxford, MS. Eng. lett. d. 63, fols. 86-88. 34 «Punch, or the London Charivari», 75 (15 November 1879), p. 223 («The English of It»); see Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, p. 440. 35 on Tenniel and Layard see D.A. Thomas, Assyrian Monsters and Domestic Chimeras, «Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900», 48/4 (2008), pp. 897-909. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 37

British consular officers andT urkish authorities. They left Therapia on 11 September 1879 and went back on 13 October. Two days after his return, Layard was received by the Sultan, who was very anxious to learn from him the condition of the country36. Although for different reasons and with different agendas, at this time Layard and Sayce therefore had a shared interest in the Mediterranean regions of the Ottoman Empire. Sayce’s trip to Western Asia Minor focused on four main areas of ancient Lydia: the Troad, Smyrna and its neighbourhood (including the Karabel Pass and Akpınar), Sardis and its neighbourhood (including the Alyattes tumulus, the Marmara Lake, and the Gumush Dagh), and Ephesos and Magnesia37. The large reliefs with inscriptions located respectively at Karabel Pass on the Kemalpasa-Torbalı road (mentioned by Herodotus in his History, where he identified the carved figure as the Egyptian pharaoh Sesostris) and in Sipylos Mountain in the locality of Akpınar near Manisa (mentioned by Pausanias in his Description of Greece and believed to have been a representation of Niobe or of the goddess Kybele) were among the main goals of Sayce’s trip. He took two squeezes of the Karabel inscription and made for the first time an accurate copy of it. He also made careful drawings of the Sipylos relief, entering an area then still so little explored that it was likened to the interior of Africa38. In 1879 the Sipylos inscription was only seen by Sayce, who copied it during his next trip, in 1881, when he was accompanied by the British

36 See Kuneralp, The Queen’s Ambassador, pp. 601ff., and Id., Twixt Pera and Therapia, pp. 201-223. 37 A.H. Sayce, The Troad, «The Athenaeum», 2710 (4 October 1879), pp. 440- 441, and Id., Letter from Smyrna, «The Academy», 16, 389 (18 October 1879), pp. 288- 290. Soon after his return to England, Sayce published The Hittites in Asia Minor, «The Academy», 16, 391 (1 November 1879), p. 321, A forgotten empire in Asia Minor, «Fraser’s Magazine», 608 (August 1880), pp. 223-233, and Notes from Journeys in the Troad and Lydia, «Journal of Hellenic Studies», 1 (1880), pp. 75-93. See also his retrospective account in Reminiscences, pp. 160-173. 38 «Mais aux portes mêmes de Smyrne s’étend le massif montagneux du Sipyle, dont certaines parties sont encore aussi peu explorées que l’intérieur de l’Afrique!», S. Reinach, Conseils aux voyageurs archéologues en Grèce et dans l’Orient hellènique, Paris 1886, pp. 7-8, based on G. Weber, Le Sipylos et ses monuments. Ancienne Smyrne (Navlochon), Paris - Smyrne 1880. 38 Silvia Alaura consul at Smyrna, George Dennis39. The importance for Sayce of the 1879 visit and the in situ study of the Karabel and Sipylos monuments also resonates in his later publications40. Sayce’s interest in the Troad comes as no surprise. Sayce, who had just met Schliemann personally for the first time in London, was among those who recognised the importance of the latter’s discoveries in this region for the pre-classical civilisations of Anatolia and Greece41. Sayce also unhesitatingly supported Schliemann’s proposal to identify Homer’s Troy with Hissarlık, and they shared this passionate conviction. Schliemann, who in the mid-1870s was lauded and derided in equal measure, absolutely fascinated Sayce42. Schliemann had also invited Sayce to join him for the 1879 season of excavations at Hissarlık43. Sayce did not go, however. He hoped to meet Schliemann in the Troad in September of that year during his trip, but by the time of Sayce’s visit to Hissarlık, Schliemann had already completed his excavation campaign (which ran from March to July) and was no longer there. Therefore, in his 1879 visit Sayce was accompanied by Frank Calvert, Schliemann’s

39 See A.H. Sayce, Letter from Smyrna, «The Academy», 18, 466 (9 April 1881), pp. 261-263, and Id., Explorations in Aeolis, «The Journal of Hellenic Studies», 3 (1882), pp. 226-227. For G. Dennis see also below. 40 A.H. Sayce, Recent Hittite Discoveries, «The Review and Expositor», 5/2 (1908), pp. 161-168, and Id., Reminiscences, pp. 168-169, 200-201. 41 The first meeting between Sayce and Schliemann, which dates back to the spring of 1878, when they had a lunch at the fashionable De Keyser’s Royal Hotel in London, is described by Sayce in his Reminiscences, p. 150. By that time, they were already in correspondence. The earliest preserved letter from Sayce to Schliemann dates from 23 April 1877. From then on, they had a solid collaboration and regular correspondence that would continue until Schliemann’s death in 1890. 42 on the relationship between Sayce and Schliemann see D.A. Traill, Schliemann and His Academic Employees, in Heinrich Schliemann nach hundert Jahren, edited by W.M. Calder III - J. Cobet, Frankfurt am Main 1990, pp. 226-230 (republished in Excavating Schliemann: Collected Papers on Schliemann, edited by D.A. Traill, Atlanta 1993 (Illinois Classical Studies, Supp. 4), pp. 215-233); D. Gange, Dialogues with the Dead: Egyptology in British Culture and Religion, 1822-1922, Oxford 2013 (Classical Presences), esp. pp. 40, 146-150; S. Duesterberg, Popular Receptions of Archaeology: Fictional and Factual Texts in 19th and Early 20th Century Britain, Bielefeld 2015 (Historische Lebenswelten in populären Wissenskulturen – History in Popular Cultures, 14), pp. 295-298. 43 Traill, Schliemann and His Academic Employees, p. 226, and Id., Schliemann of Troy, p. 186. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 39 partner in the excavations at Hissarlık, with whom Sayce began an important relationship44, and by Nicholas Yannakis, Schliemann’s personal servant. Sayce made precise observations on stratigraphy, based also on the finds he had seen at the Museum of Constantinople45. The firman to carry out excavations at Hissarlık in summer 1878, together with a permit to explore the tumuli in the plain the following year (1879), had been obtained by Schliemann through Layard. Schliemann’s gratitude to Layard is attested by his very first brief report on the 1878 excavation season at Hissarlık:

In conclusion, I here publicly most warmly thank my honourable friend, Sir A. Layard, the illustrious English Ambassador at Constantinople, for the powerful assistance he has lent me, and all the kindness he has shown me during the time of my excavation at Troy. Solely to him am I indebted for my firman and for my successful excavations, in the progress of which there arose at every moment difficulties which would have put an end to the work had it not been for his friendly protection, which I had continually had occasion to invoke, and sometimes even twice a day, per telegraph46. Later, Schliemann again gratefully acknowledged Layard’s support by dedicating Ilios to him47. And again with Layard’s help vis-à-vis the Turkish authorities, Schliemann was able to manage the division of the 1878 finds in a manner, time and place of his own choosing (i.e. in Hissarlık with Kadry Bey, the Turkish overseer of the excavations, rather than in Constantinople with an unknown official). Schliemann was also able to take a selection of his share of the finds to London to exhibit in the South Kensington Museum (now the Victoria & Albert Museum),

44 on the relationship between Sayce and Calvert see M.S. Robinson, Schliemann’s Silent Partner: Frank Calvert (1828-1908). Pioneer, Scholar and Survivor, Philadelphia 2006, esp. pp. 250ff. and passim. 45 Sayce, Notes from Journeys in the Troad and Lydia, p. 75. See S.H. Allen, Finding the Walls of Troy, Berkeley - London - New York 1999, p. 198. 46 H. Schliemann, Excavations at Ilium, «The Athenaeum», 2668 (14 December 1878), p. 769. For the firman in particular see Traill, Schliemann of Troy, pp. 182-185, and Allen, Finding the Walls of Troy, pp. 188-191. 47 H. Schliemann, Ilios. Stadt und Land der Trojaner, Leipzig 1881, pp. 53-54. Schliemann then dedicated his later book Troja (1884) to Queen Victoria. 40 Silvia Alaura together with his earlier finds48. Therefore, Layard was pivotal not only in Schliemann’s career and in the fate of the finds from Hissarlık, but also more generally in Anatolian pre-classical archaeology and its popular reception in Victorian London society. Ironically, however, despite being one of Schliemann’s greatest supporters, the British ambassador was among those unconvinced that Hissarlık was to be identified with the site of Homer’s Troy; Layard instead shared the widespread conviction that it was located at Pınarbaşı (Bounar Bashi). Layard’s disappointment at Hissarlık’s ruins is palpable in a long passage from his Memoirs referring to a trip he had made in 1877 along the coast of Asia Minor. Here Layard abandons his usual diplomatic language and with the sure-footedness of the famed archaeologist of Nineveh provides us with a first-hand, detailed account of the ruins of Hissarlık, together with a rather unflattering assessment of Schliemann as an archaeologist:

On the next day [5th October] we rode to Hisarlik to see the excavations made there by Dr Schliemann. Nothing could be more disappointing as regards the aspect of the ruins. The mound is low and rises on the edge of marshy ground. [...] There is no place for an acropolis, no natural position such as that of Bounar Bashi for defence. It was then impossible to verify Dr Schliemann’s theory as to the six or seven strata of rubbish and burnt buildings representing different cities of different periods, one raised upon the remains of other cities, a theory which has been called into question on high authority and which I have never assured, was not entertained by the Doctor until after he had returned to Europe subsequent to his first excavations. As to the ruins themselves they are strangely insignificant both as regards extent and importance. They do not deserve to be called either those of a city or of a palace. They have been reconstructed out of Dr Schliemann’s imagination. [...] It will be seen by the measurements given by the discoverer himself that the whole area is scarcely more than 100 or 150

48 The exhibition atS outh Kensington opened in December 1877 and ran until 1880. For Schliemann’s Trojan collection on display in London see D.F. Easton, Priam’s Gold: The full story, «Anatolian Studies», 44 (1994), pp. 230-232 and A. Baker, Troy on Display: Scepticism and Wonder at Schliemann’s First Exhibition, London 2019, pp. 37-43. More generally on the public reception of Schliemann’s excavations in Britain see Duesterberg, Popular Receptions of Archaeology, esp. pp. 314ff. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 41

feet square. These dimensions might suit an outlying stronghold but would scarcely be those of a town or village. I do not in any way wish to underrate the importance of Dr Schliemann’s discoveries. They are archaeologically and historically of very high interest and value and there may be abundant evidence to convince many whose opinion on the subject is deserving of the highest consideration that the remains, which he explored, occupy the site of Troy. Of their antiquity there can be no question, or even that the buildings which they represent were of different periods and that some of them may even have preceded the foundation of the Troy of the Iliad. But any attempt to identify them with the city or the edifices by the Homeric poets [...] appears to me after a careful examination of the ruins uncovered by Dr Schliemann to be simply absurd. The same may be said of the golden and other ornaments and the various objects discovered by him during the excavations. […] They are chiefly important as showing the state of civilisation and the arts in Western Asia before the influence ofA ssyria had reached it, and before the dawn of that great progress wrought by the Greeks. To find in them the very object which the Iliad describes […] can only be traced to an imagination easily excited and easily satisfied. But Dr Schliemann, whilst possessing the qualities necessary to a successful explorer and discoverer, perseverance, boundless energy, fertility of resources and great disinterestedness, was extremely deficient in critical insight, judgment and accuracy of description. Had he simply submitted his discoveries to the judgment of those who were able of understanding and determining their value and character, had abstained from endeavouring to apply them to the carrying out and illustration of preconceived theories, his reputation would have been greater. But as it is he has accomplished with great success an important work with which his name will be forever connected49. We might ask ourselves if the severity of Layard’s judgement on Schliemann was due to the fact that the latter’s discoveries in Anatolia were being compared with those Layard himself had made in Assyria. Schliemann had succeeded in forever tying his name to Troy, just as

49 Kuneralp, The Queen’s Ambassador, pp. 162-164. See also Enid’s description of their trip on 5 October 1877 to Hissarlık in Id., Twixt Pera and Therapia, p. 63. 42 Silvia Alaura

Layard had tied his to Nineveh. Promising material proof of the Homeric poems, Schliemann’s excavations at Hissarlık were equated in the mind of the British public with Layard’s excavations in Mesopotamia in relation to the Bible. And Schliemann had consciously taken Layard as a role model through which to secure his place in history50. Not surprisingly, when Layard came to pen his memoirs during his retirement in Venice51, his visit to Schliemann’s archaeological excavations received detailed attention. Schliemann had influential British supporters, including Prime Minister Gladstone52 and the archaeologist Charles Thomas Newton, known for his discovery of the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus and, from 1861, Keeper of the Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities at the British Museum53. After his 1879 trip to Asia Minor, Sayce vehemently defended Schliemann against his detractors54. He penned enthusiastic articles and reviews about Schliemann’s works for newspapers and magazines, and also contributed to his publications by means of introductions55, appendices and editing56. Sayce looked to Schliemann’s archaeological

50 For a discussion of the parallels between Layard’s discoveries in Mesopotamia and Schliemann’s excavations in the Troad see W. Arentzen, Frank Calvert, Henry Austen Layard and Heinrich Schliemann, «Anatolian Studies», 51 (2001), pp. 169-185; Duesterberg, Popular Receptions of Archaeology, pp. 221ff., 262ff., 292ff. 51 From internal evidence it would seem that the Istanbul sections of the Memoirs were written by Layard over a number of years, ranging from 1881 to 1888. Why they were never published remains a matter of conjecture; see Kuneralp, The Queen’s Ambassador, pp. 21-22. 52 J. Vaio, Gladstone and the Early Reception of Schliemann in England, in Heinrich Schliemann nach hundert Jahren, pp. 415-430, and Id., Schliemann and Gladstone: New Light from Unpublished Documents, in Heinrich Schliemann: Grundlagen und Ergebnisse moderner Archäologie 100 Jahre nach Schliemanns Tod, edited by J. Herrmann, Berlin 1992, pp. 73-76. 53 J.L. Fitton, Heinrich Schliemann and the British Museum, London 1991 (British Museum Occasional Paper, 83). 54 as an example of the sarcastic criticism of Schliemann’s archaeological excavations in the mid-1870s see the article Dr. Schliemann, «New York Times», 10 November 1876, p. 4. 55 A.H. Sayce, Vorrede to H. Schliemann, Troja, Ergebnisse meiner neuesten Ausgrabungen auf der Baustelle von Troja, in den Heldengräbern, Bunarbashi und andern Orten der Troas im Jahre 1882, Leipzig 1884, pp. VII-XXXVII. 56 For example, Sayce contributed a chapter to Schliemann’s Ilios («Anhang III. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 43 research as a tangible proof that German sceptical criticism («Higher Criticism»), which had dominated the study of Homer and the Old Testament for decades, was simply wrong and was to be labelled as a «worthless pastime»57. Sayce was pugnacious in asserting that the results of Schliemann’s excavations had opened up «a new era in the study of antiquity»58. The numerous unpublished letters exchanged by both Layard and Sayce with Schliemann in the seventies and eighties, which are kept at the British Library, London, the Bodleian Library, Oxford, and the Gennadius Library of the American School of Classical Studies, Athens59, are currently being studied and will reveal further details concerning British archaeological strategies in Western Asia Minor. Layard certainly helped Sayce in many other ways and introduced him to colleagues and friends interested in Anatolian archaeology, on this occasion or later. Layard was probably responsible for initiating Sayce’s fruitful relationship with the American institution at Istanbul known as Robert College, and in particular with the Methodist missionary and scholar Albert L. Long, who played an important role in the beginnings of the acquisition and recovery of Hittite antiquities60. Layard had a very important relationship with Robert College, which is fittingly described by its president, George Washburn:

Die Inschriften von Hissarlik», pp. 766-781) and revised the original manuscript of the «Selbstbiographie» included in it, making editorial changes for its English edition; see Sayce, Reminiscences, p. 181, and R.C. Flickinger, Sayce and Schliemann, «The Classical Journal», 27/1 (October 1931), pp. 23-25, esp. 24. See also Traill, Schliemann’s Academic Employees, and Id., Schliemann of Troy, pp. 196-215 and passim. 57 Sayce, Reminiscences, pp. 273 and 474-475. 58 A.H. Sayce, The “Higher Criticism” and the Verdict of the Monuments (Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge), London 1894, p. 17. 59 On the acquisition history of the Schliemann papers see S.A.H. Kennell, Schliemann and His Papers: A Tale from the Gennadeion Archives, «Hesperia», 76/4 (2007), pp. 785-817, and D.F. Easton, The Schliemann Papers, «Annual of the British School of Archaeology», 77 (1982), pp. 93-110. 60 See S. Alaura, The Wandering Life of the Hittite Seal Dresden ZV 1769 at the End of the 19th Century: New Archival Light, in Between Syria and the Highlands: Studies in Honor of Giorgio Buccellati and Marilyn Kelly-Buccellati, edited by S. Valentini - G. Guarducci, Roma 2019 (Studies on the Ancient Near East and the Mediterranean, 3), pp. 21-32. 44 Silvia Alaura

The fall of Midhat Pasha made it impossible for Sir Henry Elliott to return to the British Embassy here, and Sir A. Henry Layard was sent to take his place. He had been here in the time of Lord Stratford, before he became famous for his work in Babylonia, and he was welcomed by the Turks as an old friend and a well-known Turcophile. He was also a devoted friend of ours, which at that time was most fortunate for us. Dr. Long and I continued to conduct the Sunday services at the British Embassy in Therapia as we had done for several years in the summer months under Sir Henry Elliott. A good many Turks at that time gave us the credit of having brought on the war, and Sir Henry Layard improved a favorable opportunity to ask the Sultan and the Grand Vizier whether they had any complaints to make of Robert College. Both of them assured him that they were perfectly satisfied that neither the College nor any of its students had ever done anything to encourage rebellion in . This was the simple truth. It was a relief to know that it was acknowledged to be true by the Sultan. Sir Henry Layard represented here the pro-Turkish and anti-Russian policy of Lord Beaconsfield, and his relations with the Sultan were more intimate than those of any other ambassador before or since. He was consequently in a position to mitigate, in some measure, the severity of the treatment of the Bulgarians by the Turkish authorities61. On his return to England, Sayce expressed his gratitude to Layard in a letter dated 19 November 1879, which I quote in full:

Dear Sir, I ought to have written long ago to thank you for your kind offices wh[ich] smoothed the way for me at Smyrna, and I must apologise much for not having done so. My wanderings in Lydia were more successful than I could have hoped. I had the pleasure of seeing and copying the second pseudo-Sesostris described by Herodotus, as well as of having the remains of the old Greek road wh[ich] ran close to it. My squeezes and copies of the first pseudo-Sesostris, already known from Texier’s drawing, show that the inscription accompanying it is Hittite, the characters being identical with those on the monuments

61 G. Washburn, Fifty Years in Constantinople and Recollections of Robert College, Boston - New York 1909, pp. 121-122. The first meeting between Layard and Washburn took place at Robert College on 25 June 1877 according to Enid’s diaries. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 45

recently sent to the British Museum from Carchemish; and they prove, therefore, that Hittite arms and influence must once have penetrated as far as the Aegean Sea. So ‘the missing link’ between the art of Assyria and Lydia is found. I also made some curious discoveries on [Ly?] in the neighbourhood of the Niobe-figure, including a phallic monument similar to one I once visited among the Basque Pyrenees. I further noticed [...] on the Niobe-figure as well as a circular ornament above the head, neither of wh[ich] seem to have been observed before. I have returned home persuaded that Kyme is likely to pan out as excellent a site for excavations as Pergamos [sic] has proved to be to the Germans. And not only are statues and other remains of the same period and phase of art as that represent at Pergamos [sic] likely to be found at Kyme, but there also exists there an extensive necropolis full of ancient tombs. Two or three of these have been opened by the natives, and I saw some of the spoils found in their containing? archaic pottery and [...] ornaments. The Germans already have their eyes on Kyme, and have sent to Berlin two colossal marble figures lately found there. On board the steamer from Constantinople to Dardanelles I met Prof. Sachau62 who told me that a stone inscribed with unknown characters and brought from a (now) unknown part of Asia Minor, has been lying for some years in the Customs House at Constantinople, unowned and unclaimed. He thought it could be procured for a sum. With kind regards, believe me Yours very faithfully, A. H. Sayce63. This letter shows how Sayce called upon Layard for archaeological advice, suggesting an excavation at Kyme Aeolis, which seemed

62 The German orientalist Carl Eduard Sachau travelled to the Near East on several occasions. During his 1879 travels, on 11 September, he met the Layards when they were leaving Therapia for their above-mentioned trip: «Zugleich mit uns hatte am 11. September ein englisches Kanonenboot Constantinopel verlassen, das wir in der Gegend zwischen Tenedos und Mytilene, da es einen mehr westlichen Curs steuerte, aus den Augen verloren. Es trug einen Mann nach Syrien, dessen Name der Wissenschaft und der Politik zugleich angehört, den Entdecker Ninives, Sir Henry Layard, damals Vertreter Englands am Bosporus»; see E. Sachau, Reise in Syrien und Mesopotamien, Leipzig 1883, p. 2, and see also pp. 10, 16, 108. 63 a.H. Sayce to A.H. Layard, Oxford, November 19, 1879, British Library, Add MS 39029, f. 250. Already partially published in Alaura, Setting the stage, p. 51. I thank Cecilia Riva for making available to me her transcription of this letter. 46 Silvia Alaura as promising as Pergamon, where the Germans had just started excavations64. Although Layard had retired from archaeological practice many years before, as ambassador he was very active in promoting British excavations in the Near East on behalf of the British Museum. Layard supported both Hormuzd Rassam’s expeditions in Mesopotamia65 and Patrick Henderson’s excavation at Jerablus, the ancient Karkemish, situated on the Euphrates along the modern border between Turkey and Syria66. In the very days when Sayce left for his trip to Anatolia, Rassam had returned to London from his excavations in Assyria67 and Layard was managing to convince Samuel Birch, then Keeper of the Department of Oriental Antiquities of the British Museum (which after his death was reorganised and renamed the Department of Egyptian and Assyrian Antiquities), to start excavations and acquire antiquities in Toprakkale near the Van Citadel, the Urartian capital in eastern Anatolia68. With these circumstances in the background, Sayce’s proposal to Layard to undertake excavations at Kyme Aeolis comes as no surprise. Actually, this was part of Sayce’s extensive research programme in Asia Minor to further promote the study of Anatolian culture, particularly in

64 In 1878 Carl Humann had received the official permits from the Ottoman government to start excavations in Pergamon. Large parts of the frieze of the altar and many sculptures were found during this initial work. 65 Rassam had assisted Layard during his Mesopotamian excavations of 1845- 1847 and 1849-1851. In 1877 and 1878 Layard helped Rassam to obtain two firmans to continue the earlier diggings. On Rassam see J.E. Reade, Rassam, Hormuzd, «Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie», 11, 3/4 (2007), pp. 262-263; on Rassam, Layard and the excavations of these years see J.E. Reade, Hormuzd Rassam and His Discoveries, «Iraq», 55 (1993), pp. 56-59. 66 Layard managed to obtain a firman that was valid throughout northern Syria. For the circumstances under which the British Museum Expedition was established at Karkemish and for an overview of Henderson’s excavations see D.G. Hogarth, Carchemish: Report on the Excavations at Jerablus on Behalf of the British Museum, Part I: Introductory, London 1914, pp. 1-14. 67 See for instance the announcement Assyrian Explorations, «ScientificA merican Supplement», 8, 189 (16 August 1879), p. 3013. 68 See R.D. Barnett, The Excavations of the British Museum at Toprak Kale near Van, «Iraq», 12 (1950), pp. 1-43, esp. 3ff., and B. Genç, Archaeology of Destruction, «Iraq», 80 (2018), pp. 113-137. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 47 order to give Britain a monopoly on Hittite research. This programme began life within the Society for the Promotion of Hellenic Studies (generally known as the Hellenic Society)69, recently founded by scholars including Sayce himself and Newton. The two scholars had become «very intimate» at the end of 1878, following the publication of two articles by Sayce in which he had suggested that «Assyrian influence entered Greece through Asia Minor» and that «before the appearance of the Phoenicians, the Phrygians had been the intermediaries between East and West»70. The founding members of the prestigious Society included Oscar Wilde, who sat on its first Council71. The objectives of the Society included that of founding a British School at Smyrna, to compete with those of the French and Germans in Athens. Sayce himself was to recall the aims of his travels as follows:

My exploratory travels in Asia Minor were intended to be a sort of introductory essay in what we hoped would form a large part of the future work of the Society. I was particularly anxious that it should devote its attention more especially to that portion of the ancient Hellenic world. I had come more and more to believe that prehistoric Greece had owed far more to Asianic influence – the influence, that is to say, of Asia Minor – than to the Phoenicians, and that whatever elements in its culture were derived from Assyria and Babylonia had come to the

69 For an account of the first 50 years of the Society (1879-1929) see G.A. Macmillan, An Outline of the History of the Hellenic Society, Part I: 1879-1904; Part II: 1904-1929, available online at (last accessed 15/11/2019). For a centenary retrospective see P.T. Stevens, The Society for the Promotion of Hellenic Studies, 1879-1979: A Historical Sketch, London 1979. See also R. Doyle, The Society for the Promotion of Hellenic Studies Archive of George A. Macmillan’s Personal Papers, «Archaeological Reports», 56 (2010), pp. 203-218. 70 Sayce, Reminiscences, pp. 149-150. The two articles are: The Art of Prehistoric Greece, «The Academy», 13, 304 (2 March 1878), pp. 195-197, and The Phoenicians in Greece, «The Contemporary Review», 34 (December, 1878 - March, 1879), pp. 60-76. 71 See I. Ross, Oscar Wilde and Ancient Greece, Cambridge 2013 (Cambridge Studies in Nineteenth-Century Literature and Culture, 82), pp. 101-102, 119, and K. Riley - A. Blanshard - I. Manny, eds., Oscar Wilde and Classical Antiquity, Oxford - New York 2018, pp. 7, 20, 40. In 1879 Wilde wrote, without success, to Sayce about the possibility of an archaeological scholarship at Athens; see M. Holland - R. Hart-Davis, The Complete Letters of Oscar Wilde, London 2000, pp. 79, 85. 48 Silvia Alaura

West through the Hittites and Phrygians. But the earlier history of Asia Minor was practically unknown. The excavations of Schliemann had shown what lay secreted under the soil and had raised problems the answers to which were still to be found. The archaeology of Greece was being well looked after by the French and German schools at Athens as well as by the Greek Government itself; what we had to do was to carry on a similar work in Asia Minor and eventually establish a school at Smyrna72. Further details of the 1879 journey undertaken by Sayce had already been communicated to Layard by Newton in a letter from England dated 5 November 1879, in the context of the destruction of the partly unearthed marble ruins in ancient sites:

Sayce has just come back from Asia Minor and gives a sad account of the destruction of ancient marbles which is going on everywhere, particularly at Magnesia ad Meandrum and at the great temple at Sardis. It is very bad, but I really don’t see how in the present state of Turkey matters can be mended. I am very glad that the Germans rescued from destruction so much at Pergamos, as you will have seen by a letter in . I have not yet had any intelligence from Berlin as to the value of these marbles73. Layard’s reply to the above-mentioned letter by Sayce of 19 November is dated 12 December 1879 (Fig. 9):

Dear Professor Sayce, I was very glad to learn by your letter of the 19th ult[im]o that your trip to Smyrna had proved so successful. I had already heard from Mr. Dennis, whom I saw shortly after your visit, of your discoveries. Unfortunately the time at my disposal was so short that I could only pay a hasty visit to the ruins of Ephesus. I should certainly have visited the ‘Niobe’ and the ‘Pseudo-Sesostris’ if I could have remained another day or two at Smyrna; but my presence was urgently required at Constantinople and I had no time to spare. Perhaps

72 Sayce, Reminiscences, p. 172. 73 ch. Newton to A.H. Layard, November 5, 1879, British Library, Add MS 39029, fols. 150-151. I thank Cecilia Riva for making available to me her transcription of this letter. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 49

next year I may be able to visit Smyrna again, and I shall then endeavor to see all the remains in the neighbourhood which you describe. The fact that Hittite influence reached so far north as Smyrna, is very curious & interesting, and may account, as you suggest, for the Assyrian character of Lydian art. Mr. Henderson tells me that he has discovered some further monuments at Carchemish. I am sorry to say that the Americans have obtained a firman for excavations at Kyme and have thus forestalled Mr. Dennis, who was anxious to make researches there. Unfortunately I was not informed of his wish until it was too late. I am now asking for a firman to enable him to examine other sites, which, he hopes, will yield important remains. I could not obtain any information about the discoveries of the Germans at Pergamus. Mr. Dennis had not been able to obtain a description of the monuments & sculptures. The matter has been kept very secret. Unfortunately no Englishman can do anything without sending or allowing to be sent a full account to the newspapers. The publication of the firman I obtained for Mr. Rassam in the “Times” did a world of mischief. When I was in Syria a colossal statue was found at Gaza. I did not see it, but from the descriptions of it I received it is probably of the Phoenician period. The Minister of Public Instruction tells me that the American Consul was going to embark it for the United States, but has not been allowed to do so by the Authorities. I will make enquiries about the Stone at the Customs House here mentioned to you by Professor Sachau. Believe me yours very truly AHLayard74 From this letter we learn that Sayce’s idea to excavate at Kyme was one he shared with the British explorer and Etruscologist George Dennis who, being a protégé of Layard, at that time worked at the Smyrna Consulate, and also that the project came to nothing because the British were pre-empted by the «Americans»75. Some time later, in

74 a.H. Layard to A.H. Sayce, Pera, December 12, 1879, Bodleian Library, MS Eng. lett. d. 63, fols. 231-232. 75 actually, the first excavations in Kyme were the result of a French expedition led by Salomon Reinach who, with the help of the French ambassador Hugues Fournier, in 1880 obtained permission to excavate the entire territory from Myrina to Phokaia. The reports of these excavations, carried out by Reinach with Edmond Pottier (later chief curator of the Louvre), were published in the «Journal of Hellenic Studies» in 1882. 50 Silvia Alaura

1882, Dennis led an archaeological campaign at Sardis. In general, the letter shows the wide range of interests shared by Layard and Sayce. In particular, it is interesting to note that neither Layard nor Dennis had precise information on the activity of the Germans in Pergamon. For Sayce and his many projects in Anatolia – from the establishment of a school at Smyrna to the excavations at Kyme – the end of Layard’s posting to Constantinople in 1880 did irreparable damage. However, this did not mark the end of their fruitful relationship. For instance, when Sayce devoted himself at the beginning of the 1880s to the decipherment of the language of , he used Layard’s unpublished pen-and-ink copies of the Vannic inscriptions, which were kept in the British Museum. As Richard Barnett pointed out at the 1983 Venice Symposium76, Sayce found them to be more accurate and reliable than those made before by the German scholar Friedrich Eduard Schulz:

Sir A. H. Layard had already visited Armenia in 1850, at the time when he was excavating in Assyria, and had there made copies of the inscriptions in Van and its immediate neighbourhood. His copies, which have never been published, are extremely valuable, as they are much more accurate than those of Schulz, and not unfrequently clear up a doubtful passage in the latter. Among them, moreover, are several inscriptions which Schulz did not see. [...] The only palaeographical difficulty presented by theV annic inscriptions is one due to the faultiness and inaccuracy of the copies of them which we possess. Most of these copies are excessively bad; in many cases, as we shall see, the text can be restored only by the help of parallel passages. Sir A. H. Layard’s copies are by far the best77. It is difficult to believe that Sayce and Layard did not talk about the «Vannic inscriptions» together. The two men undoubtedly spent time together in London during the eighties. Of the places Layard and Sayce visited and the communications they exchanged, only a few traces

76 R.D. Barnett, Layard’s Influence on British in the Nineteenth Century, in Fales-Hickey, eds. Austen Henry Layard, p. 180. 77 A.H. Sayce, The Cuneiform Inscriptions of Van, Deciphered and Translated, «Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society», 14 (October 1882), pp. 377-732 (quotation from pp. 385 and 418). Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 51 remain. Certainly, the Athenaeum Club continued to be one of the places where they could meet78. Both also participated in important cultural events in London. For instance, at the end of March 1882, both Layard and Sayce participated in the inaugural meeting of The Delta Exploration Fund (its name was soon changed by Committee decision to The Exploration Fund) which in the 1880s undertook the first large-scale British excavations79. Some years later, in 1888, the two men were among those invited by the archaeologist William Matthew to be the first members of the Society for the Preservation of the Monuments of Ancient Egypt, together with other prominent figures in the intellectual and artistic life of London, such as the Egyptologist Amelia Edwards, the painters of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood William Holman Hunt and Edward Burne-Jones, and the portraitist, sculptor, landscape painter and symbolist George Frederic Watts, whose work embodied the most pressing themes and ideas of the time80. Without question, Layard and Sayce routinely interacted in a variety of ways – now almost impossible to trace – which played a crucial role in the progress of oriental studies. Sayce probably also kept Layard informed about the evolution of his Anatolian research. The Asia Minor Exploration Fund, an initiative of the Hellenic Society established in 1882, supported the classical scholar and archaeologist William Mitchell Ramsay81, a good friend of Sayce, in

78 layard’s visits to the Athenaeum Club are recorded in Enid’s diaries for 12 and 18 January 1882. 79 The inaugural meeting was reported in some detail in «The Academy» of 1 April 1882, p. 236, under the title Fine Art. In 1918 The Egypt Exploration Fund renamed itself The Egypt Exploration Society; see M.S. Drower, The Early Years, in Excavating in Egypt. The Egypt Exploration Society 1882-1982, edited by Th.G.H. James, London 1982, pp. 9-36, and also D. Gange, Dialogues with the Dead: Egyptology in British Culture and Religion, 1822-1922, Oxford 2013 (Classical Presences), esp. pp. 40-41. 80 See M.S. Drower, Flinders Petrie: A Life in Archaeology, Madison 19952 (Wisconsin Studies in Classics), esp. pp. 168ff. On the significance of Egypt for the painters of the Pre- Raphaelite Brotherhood see D.V. Mason, “The Perennial Dramas of the East”: Representations of the Middle East in the Writing and Art of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and William Holman Hunt, Diss. Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada 2009. 81 William Mitchell Ramsay graduated from the and continued his studies in Oxford, where in 1885 he was appointed to the Lincoln and Merton Chair of Classical Archaeology. In 1886 he moved back to Aberdeen, where he was Regius Professor 52 Silvia Alaura his exploration of Asia Minor during the early 1880s82. In the same years, Sayce also tried to encourage Schliemann to excavate the ruins near Boğazköy, in central Anatolia83. However, the Smyrna plan ultimately came to nothing. Expert manoeuvring by key individuals on the Hellenic Society’s Council ensured that a location in Athens was found. The British School at Athens eventually came into being in 188684. From Sayce’s aforementioned manuscript The Heroic Age of Assyriology we learn that during the 1890s Layard and Sayce continued to meet in London until shortly before Layard’s death in 1894. As research currently stands, Anatolia does not emerge as a major topic of conversation between them, whereas it is documented that Sayce and of Humanity until his retirement in 1911. He travelled extensively in Asia Minor from 1880 until the outbreak of World War I. On Ramsay see J.G.C. Anderson - P.W. Lock, Ramsay, Sir William Mitchell, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (online edition, January 2008: https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/35664, last accessed 15 November 2019). Ramsay met Sayce at Oxford for the first time during the 1870s at Max Müller’s house; see W.M. Ramsay, The bearing of recent discovery on the trustworthiness of the New Testament, London - New York - Toronto 1915, p. 22. 82 Sayce, Reminiscences, pp. 172-173; Ramsay published several articles in the «Journal of Hellenic Studies» from 1880 onwards on discoveries made during his travels. A selection of letters from Ramsay to Macmillan are available online at (last accessed 15/11/2019). See also Doyle, The Society for the Promotion of Hellenic Studies, pp. 205-206 and passim. 83 Sayce, Reminiscences, p. 220, and see also S. Alaura, “Nach Boghasköy!” Zur Vorgeschichte der Ausgrabungen in Boğazköy-Ḫattuša und zu den archäologischen Forschungen bis zum Ersten Weltkrieg. Darstellung und Dokumente, Berlin 2006 (13. SendschriftDOG), pp. 25-26. 84 The story of the School’s foundation has often been told; see e.g. G. Macmillan, A Short History of the British School at Athens, 1886-1911, «The Annual of the British School at Athens», 17 (1910-1911), pp. ix-x; H. Waterhouse, The British School at Athens: The First Hundred Years, London 1986, pp. 6-9; D.W.J. Gill, The British School at Athens and Archaeological Research in the Late Ottoman Empire, in Archaeology, Anthropology and Heritage in the and Anatolia: The Life and Times of F.W. Hasluck, 1878-1920, edited by D. Shankland, Vol. 1, Istanbul 2004, pp. 223-255; L. Potter - J. Whitley, The Origins of the British School at Athens, in On Site: British Archaeologists in Greece, edited by E. Calligas - J. Whitley, Athens 2005, pp. 11-23; M. Beard - Ch. Stray, The Academy Abroad: The Nineteenth-Century Origin of the British School at Athens, in The Organisation of Knowledge in Victorian Britain, edited by M. Daunton, Oxford 2005, esp. p. 378 for Sayce; D.W.J. Gill, Sifting the Soil of Greece: The Early Years of the British School at Athens (1886-1919) London 2011 (Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies, suppl. 111), esp. pp. 12-29. Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 53

Layard discussed issues relating to Mesopotamia, such as the quarrel in 1893 between Layard’s protégé Rassam and E.A. Wallis Budge, who from 1892 was Acting Keeper and in 1894 became Keeper of the Department of Egyptian and Assyrian Antiquities of the British Museum85:

One of my last recollections of him [Layard] is a conversation in his London house one afternoon tea when he vigourously [sic] took the part of his old friend & protégé Hormuzd Rassam who had become entangled in a quarrel with the British Museum. Hormuzd Rassam, by the way, married an English wife, & spent the better part of his life in Bayswater not far from the house in which I was living at the time. He asked me one day if I would revise the English of an account of his experiences in Aden & Abyssinia & more especially of his work in Babylonia & Assyria which he was writing for the benefit of his children. I agreed to do so & the pages of the MS [i.e. manuscript], in pencil, were sent to me from time to time as soon as they were finished. There was a good deal in them of interest to the Assyriologist, but unfortunately I took no notes, thinking that the whole work would be completed before long & eventually published. When only the earlier portion of the intended work however had been written & revised I had to leave England for Egypt & when I returned some months later I found that Rassam was dead & his unfinished MS lost or destroyed86. As shown by archival documentation preserved at the Bodleian Library, Sayce was kept well informed about the legal dispute concerning Rassam and Budge – which attracted a great deal of press attention87 – by Rassam himself. Rassam’s legal case was therefore probably among the last important issues discussed by Layard and Sayce. After Layard’s death, the unstoppable rise of German oriental

85 See J. Reade, Wallis Budge - for or against?, in Wallis Budge: Magic and Mummies in London and Cairo, edited by M. Ismail, Kilkerran 2015, pp. 461-463. 86 Sayce, The Heroic Age of Assyriology (see above footnote 28), pp. 9-10. See also Sayce, Reminiscences, p. 302. 87 see for example the articles that came out in rapid succession in «Nature», The Thieving of Assyrian Antiquities, 48, 1241 (10 August 1893), pp. 343-344; 1247 (21 September 1893), pp. 508-509; 1249 (5 October 1893), p. 540. 54 Silvia Alaura studies, which had begun in those very years when Sayce was travelling in Asia Minor, continued both generally and with regard to Hittite Anatolia. Sayce’s rivalry with the German Assyriologist Hugo Winckler was first sparked by the cuneiform tablets found in Middle Egypt in 1887 in the ruins by Amarna. Among them were two letters (EA 31, 32) written in an unknown language, which both Winckler and Sayce independently suggested was Hittite88. These and other discoveries then pushed the German and British orientalists simultaneously in 1905 to ask for permission to dig at Boğazköy. By that time, Ottoman Turkey was allied with Germany, especially after the oriental trip made by Wilhelm II in 1898, which marked the beginning of the personal friendship between the Kaiser and the Sultan89. And two further simultaneous developments gave German archaeology a privileged position: the founding of the Deutsche Orient-Gesellschaft and the signing of a secret excavation treaty between Germany and the Sublime Porte90. Sayce supported John Garstang of the Institute of Archaeology at Liverpool University, but it was Winckler who succeeded in excavating Boğazköy, where he found the tablets that allowed its identification with the Hittite capital, Hattuša. At this crucial moment in the history of Anatolian studies, many years after Layard’s death, Sayce still regretted the ending of Layard’s ambassadorship to Turkey, as is clear from a letter, now preserved at the Griffith Institute at Oxford, that he sent to Garstang from Egypt on 10 November 1907. From his dahabeeyah,

88 H. Winckler, Bericht über die Thontafeln von Tell-el-Amarna im Königlichen Museum zu Berlin und im Museum von Bulaq, Berlin 1888 (Sitz. Kgl. Pr. Ak. Wiss. LI/2, 13. Dec. Sitz. der phil.-hist. Kl.), pp. 1341-1357, esp. pp. 1348-1349; A.H. Sayce, Letter from Egypt, «The Academy», 872 (19 January 1889), p. 47. For the history of the Amarna discoveries see, among others, C. Aldred, El-Amarna, in Excavating in Egypt, pp. 89-106. 89 See K. Jaschinski - J. Waldschmidt, eds., Des Kaisers Reise in den Orient 1898, Berlin 2002, and S. Mangold-Will, Die Orientreise Wilhelms II.: Archäologie und die Legitimierung einer Hohenzollernschen Universalmonarchie zwischen Orient und Okzident, in Wilhelm II. Archäologie und Politik um 1900, edited by Th. Beigel - S. Mangold-Will, Stuttgart 2017, pp. 53-66. 90 See S.L. Marchand, Down from Olympus: Archaeology and Philhellenism in Germany, 1750-1970, Princeton 1996, esp. pp. 188-200, and Ead., German Archaeology in the Wilhelmine Era: An Overview, in Wilhelm II., pp. 15-21 (esp. pp. 17-18). Austen Henry Layard and Archibald Henry Sayce 55

Ishtar, the Nile boat fitted out with a library on which he used to spend the winter, Sayce wrote:

The German concession includes Kara Eyuk (or Kül Tepé) near Kaisarya, where the Cappadocian cuneiform tablets are found, as well as Boghaz Keui: it was obtained by the German ambassador and a letter to the Sultan from the Kaiser. I wish we had a man like Layard at Constantinople now. […] Winckler brought back 2500 tablets from Boghaz Keui as the result of his months’ digging91. No British ambassador to the Porte would ever again command so much influence over Anatolian archaeology as Layard had. And even later, in his essay in the monumental and now almost forgotten The Book of History, published in 1915, Sayce celebrated Layard and his chief assistant and successor Rassam among the «Revealers of the Past» who had preceded him, and he included photographs of them in the select «group of the most notable archaeologists, to whose labours so much of our knowledge of the ancient empires is due»92.

91 a.H. Sayce to J. Garstang, November 10, 1907, Griffith Institute, Oxford, Sayce MSS. B 32.4. 92 A.H. Sayce, The Ancient Civilisations and their Vanished Glories: Early Empires of Mesopotamia & Egypt, in The Book of History: The Life-Story of the Earth and of All Nations. Fourth Grand Division – The Near East, New York - London 1915, p. 1557. Fig. 1 - The Rt Hon. Austen Henry Layard DCL, British Ambassador to Constantinople by Lock & Whitfield, published by Sampson Low, Marston, Searle and Rivington woodburytype, 1877 (© National Portrait Gallery, London). Fig. 2 - The War in the East, Arrival of Mr. Layard, the New British Ambassador, at Constantinople: The Reception at the Arsenal, Anonymous.

56 Fig. 3 - Archibald Henry Sayce (1845-1933) by Samuel Alexander Walker, 1874 (© National Portrait Gallery, London). Fig. 4 - The Burden of Nineveh so loquitur “Ah! what is here that does not lie, All strange to thine awakened eye” (from The Burden of Nineveh, poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1870). Archibald Henry Sayce with anthropomorphic statues with inscriptions on their bases; caricature publ. by Thomas Shrimpton & Son c. 1897. Dimensions: 194x132 mm. (The Bodleian Libraries, The , Shelfmark: G.A. Oxon. 4° 418, vol. 7, fol. 1203).

57 Fig. 5 - The Athenaeum Club in London in 1830, engraved by James Tingle from an original study (now in the Museum of London) by Thomas Hosmer Shepherd. Fig. 6 - Members of the Athenaeum Club by Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones, Bt ARA. Pen and ink on paper (Courtesy of the Athenaeum Club, Waterloo Place and Pall Mall, London). 58 Fig. 7 - Punch’s Essence of Parliament, designed by E.L. Sambourne, from «Punch, or the London Charivari», 74 (March 2, 1878), p. 86. 59 Fig. 8 - The English of It, designed by J. Tenniel, from «Punch, or the London Charivari», 75 (November 15, 1879), p. 223. 60 Fig. 9 a, b - Letter from A.H. Layard to A.H. Sayce, Pera, December 12, 1879 (The Bodleian Libraries, The University of Oxford, MS. Eng. lett. d. 63, fols. 231-232).

61

John Curtis1

Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper and his Other Artists

Abstract This paper examines the relationship between Layard and the artist Frederick Charles Cooper who worked with him at Nimrud and Nineveh from September 1849 to July 1850 and who accompanied him on a visit to the Khabur in spring 1850. Layard was scornful of Cooper and disappointed by the quantity and quality of his work, but we attempt to show that Layard’s contemptuous view of him was unwarranted. A review of the surviving drawings and watercolours that can be attributed to Cooper shows that his achievements and his contribution to the work of the expedition have been underestimated, and that at the time Cooper was not given the credit that he deserved. We also look at his later career when after returning home he gave public lectures at which he showed a ‘diorama’ of the Nineveh excavations. The paper ends with brief descriptions of the later artists on the Assyrian excavations, Thomas Septimus Bell, who drowned in the River Gommel, and Charles Doswell Hodder, and the genre painter Edward Prentis who made copies of the Nimrud ivories and the Nimrud bowls in the British Museum.

Layard’s first campaign excavation campaign at Nimrud and Nineveh lasted from November 1845 until June 1847. He had with him as a helper Hormuzd Rassam, the young brother of the British Vice- Consul at Mosul who was just 17 years old when they started work. His

1 Much of the previously unpublished information in this paper derives from joint work with Nigel Tallis in preparation for a catalogue of the Nimrud Bowls in the British Museum. I am grateful to Stefania Ermidoro and Cecilia Riva for inviting me to this conference. 64 John Curtis job was «to act as his (Layard’s) secretary and pay the workmen»2, but in fact, as we shall see, he did very much more than this. In this first campaign, at Nimrud, the main focus of attention was the North-West Palace of Ashurnasirpal II (883-859 BC), but Layard also excavated in the Central Palace, the South-East Palace and the South-West Palace3. Also in this first season, Layard opened trenches in the Kouyunjik mound at Nineveh, and cleared some chambers in the South-West Palace of Sennacherib (704-681 BC)4. The results of this first excavation campaign were written up with exemplary speed, appearing already in 18495 and a large folio volume of drawings was published in the same year6. During this first campaign Layard had no artist with him, so most if not all of the drawings that appeared in Nineveh and its Remains and the first series of Monuments of Nineveh were from Layard’s own hand. This was unquestionably a very remarkable achievement. Layard himself was an accurate copyist and a good draftsman, and while he spent little time making sketches and watercolours – or if he did they do not survive7 – he made very faithful copies of the Assyrian reliefs and monuments. It was clear to all, however, that this situation could not continue; however brilliant he may have been, Layard could not be expected to manage the excavations and do all the recording and drawing. It was therefore agreed that an artist should be engaged for the second campaign. Accordingly, a 28-year-old artist by the name of Frederick Charles Cooper was signed up for the sum of £200 per year + £30 for the journey. He had been born in Nottingham in 1821 and already in 1844 had exhibited in the Royal Academy annual show a work entitled Ophelia: therewith fantastic garlands did she make8. As it turned

2 G. Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, London 1963, p. 129. 3 J.N. Postgate - J.E. Reade, Kalhu, «Reallexikon der Assyriologie und vorderasiatischen Archäologie», 5 (1980), pp. 303-323 (cf. p. 304); see plan in A.H. Layard, Nineveh and Its Remains. With an Account of a Visit to the Chaldaean Christians of Kurdistan, and the Yezidis, or Devil-Worshippers, 2 vols, London 1849, Vol. I, facing p. 332. 4 see plan in Layard, Nineveh and its Remains, Vol. II, facing p. 124. 5 Layard, Nineveh and its Remains. 6 A.H. Layard, The Monuments of Nineveh: From Drawings Made on the Spot, London 1849. 7 see, however, Ermidoro in this volume. 8 A. Graves, The Royal Academy of Arts: A Complete Dictionary of Contributors and Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 65 out, Cooper was not an ideal choice as he was newly married, had no experience of travelling in the east, and did not acclimatize well. However he presumably needed the money, and he was nothing if not willing. We know quite a lot about him because a) we have his portfolio, which includes works which have been for a long time in the British Museum, although it is still unclear which drawings are by him, plus 28 sketches acquired in 20099, and drawings in the Victoria and Albert Museum10 and other collections; b) we have his diary for 1850, which was presented to the British Museum by Mrs Irene L. Coldstream, his great-great granddaughter in 1988; and (c) we have reports and comments about him by his contemporaries. The second excavation campaign lasted from September 1849 until May 1851. As the members of this expedition and their relations with each other are crucial to the Cooper story, we shall briefly review them. Apart from Cooper himself, there were Layard, Hormuzd Rassam, and Dr (1822-1881) who was a young English surgeon whom Layard had met at Constantinople and persuaded him to come with him to Mesopotamia. In the event, he proved to be much more interested in field sports than in archaeology, and provided little help with the excavations11. Layard, Rassam, Cooper and Sandwith left Constantinople on 28th August 1849 and arrived at Mosul on 30th September 1849. Towards the end of the year they were joined by Stewart Erskine Rolland and his wife Charlotte. They had been travelling in the east and were on their way to visit Colonel of the Boundary Commission12. In Mosul, and providing intermittent help and hospitality were Hormuzd’s elder brother, the British Vice-Consul Christan Rassam and his wife Matilda, and her their Work from Its Foundation to 1904, 2 vols, London 1905, p. 146. In 1844 Cooper was living at 37 Square, London. 9 J.E. Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, «Iraq», 72 (2010), pp. 175-182; Id., Universal Language, «British Museum Magazine», 67 (2010), pp. 34-37. See Appendix. The drawings were purchased through Ebay from Chin Fine Art. 10 in the Victoria and Albert Museum there are 22 sketches plus a sketch-book with 28 pages, all formerly in the Rodney Searight collection (V&A, SD 252-270). 11 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, p. 213. For a semi-autobiographical account of Sandwith’s life, see T.H. Ward, Humphry Sandwith: A Memoir compiled from Autobiographical Notes, London 1884. 12 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, pp. 204-205. 66 John Curtis brother the English missionary George Percy Badger and his wife Maria. George Percy Badger (1815-1888)13 was a rather intransigent Anglo- Catholic missionary and oriental scholar who had returned to Mosul in early 1850 with his wife Maria so that he could research his book on The Nestorians and their Rituals that appeared a couple of years later14. During this second season Layard himself worked mainly at Nimrud, principally in the North-West Palace, the South-West Palace and the South-East Palace, and the Ninurta and (Ishtar) Sharrat- Niphi temples15. He lived there in a small mud-brick house, and the Rollands also stayed with him there until they left16. The bulk of the work during the second season, however, was at Nineveh, and Cooper was based mainly there with Hormuzd Rassam. He lived in Mosul and rode out each day to the Kouyunjik mound. The principal activity was in the South-West Palace of Sennacherib, and amongst the many reliefs uncovered were series showing the siege and capture of Lachish, a campaign in the marshes, and the quarrying and transportation of winged bulls for the palace. During this time Cooper was very busy copying reliefs. Thus, on 18th March1850, Layard was able to report to Sir Henry Ellis, Director of the British Museum, that «Mr. Cooper has made about sixty drawings at Kuyunjik and Nimrud many of which are very elaborate and full of subject, containing as many as two hundred figures»17. Earlier, Layard had asked the British Museum to send «a hundred sheets of silver paper for the protection of Mr Cooper’s drawings»18. He was also responsible

13 On Badger, see G.J. Roper, George Percy Badger (1815-1888), «Bulletin of the British Society for Middle Eastern Studies», 11 (1984), pp. 140-155; Id., Badger, George Percy (1815-1888), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford 2004, (online edition, January 2008: , last accessed 7/10/2019). 14 G.P. Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals, 2 vols, London 1852. 15 Postgate-Reade, Kalhu, pp. 304, 308. 16 See report in «TheT imes» of 6th March 1850, based on a letter sent to a correspondent in Britain (or even sent directly to «TheT imes») by Stewart Erskine Rolland. «We have since been residing in his (Layard’s) house here (at Nimrud); it is, in fact, little more than a mud hut; but he has put in glass windows, a table, and some sofas, and made it as comfortable as circumstances will admit». 17 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, p. 208. 18 ellis, 16th March, 1850, to Layard (BM Letter Books, 11th February 1850 to 30th August 1850: the letter itself, dated 18th March, is preserved in the British Library under MS Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 67 for supervising the workmen. In a draft letter to his wife, Louisa, Cooper describes a dangerous incident on the Kouyujik mound when a massive fight broke out amongst the workmen. Rassam was sent for to quell the disturbance, but before he arrived Cooper had sorted things out. There is no doubt that Cooper’s output was very considerable and many of the drawings published in the 2nd series of Monuments of Nineveh are from his hand. Unfortunately, very few of his drawings are signed19 but the signed drawings do include one of a very detailed slab in the Southwest Palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh showing workmen hauling a colossal stone bull from the quarry (Fig. 1)20. Although most of Cooper’s drawings are unsigned, however, they can be recognized through his characteristic use of white paint to highlight and enhance details in the drawings that are sometimes on coloured paper. An example of this technique is a drawing of a file of captives from one of Sennacherib’s campaigns (Fig. 2)21. It ought to be possible on the basis of a careful analysis to determine which of the illustrations in the volumes of Original Drawings in the British Museum should be definitely attributed to Cooper, but such a survey is beyond the scope of the present study. He also executed a large number of watercolours showing the excavations at Nimrud and Nineveh, and these sometimes exist in multiple copies. Presumably Cooper continued to produce copies for sale after the end of the excavations. Amongst the examples that have been of long duration in the British Museum collection are sketches showing lamassu figures at the entrance to the Shrine of Ninurta at Nimrud, lions at the entrance to the Shrine of Ishtar at Nimrud, and a tunnel dug through Sennacherib’s Palace at Nineveh22. There is also the

Add. 38979): «Your last letter to Mr Hawkins requested a hundred sheets of silver paper for the protection of Mr Cooper’s drawings: but I packed up twelve quires, amounting to two hundred and eighty eight sheets. Mrs Austin (sic) was so good as to place them in the box which she was at that moment filling to forward to you by the Oriental Steamer». 19 R.D. Barnett - E. Bleibtreu - G. Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh, London 1998, nos. 136b, 200a-201a and 277a. 20 Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace, pl. 101. 21 Ibid., pl. 358. 22 J.E. Reade, Assyrian Sculpture, London 1983, fig. 3 on p. 8; fig. on pp 2-3; fig. 5 on p. 10 respectively. 68 John Curtis watercolour entitled Arabs at a Well showing excavations in the so-called Room of the Bronzes at Nimrud in which Layard found large numbers of bronze bowls, cauldrons and furniture (Fig. 3)23. Amongst the 28 Cooper drawings acquired in 2009 (see Appendix) there are four that are of particular interest for the excavations at Nimrud and Nineveh: -- The first shows two groups of workmen engaged in a complex operation to lower a colossal winged lion at Nimrud onto a pallet. Layard is standing at the top of the trench supervising the work, and next to him is a figure wearing a red fez who is probably Rassam (Fig. 4)24. -- The second shows excavations at Kouyunjik being supervised by A.H. Layard who is wearing a peaked cap and holding under his arm a copy of what is probably Nineveh and its Remains (Fig 5)25. -- The third shows aT iyari workman digging in a tunnel at Nineveh (Fig 6)26. TheT iyari workmen were Nestorians from the Tiyari Mountains who wore striped dresses and conical felt caps. The figure at the end of the tunnel wearing a red fez is probably Rassam. He may be here in conversation with Toma Shishman, Layard’s foreman, who is wearing a turban and red cummerband as in Fig. 7 below. -- The fourth shows a group of ten figures in local dress who are presumably associated with the excavations in some way (Fig. 7). They are identified below as follows: Shamoun, Ampseer, Sechees, Fetah, Latif Agha, Thoma, Arabs. Thoma is presumablyT oma Shishman, Layard’s foreman27, here living up to his nickname of «fat Toma».

23 J.E. Curtis - J.E. Reade, eds., Art and Empire: Treasures from Assyria in the British Museum, London 1995, fig. on p. 153. 24 Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pl. 12. 25 Ibid., pl. 13. 26 Ibid., pl. 14. 27 G. Turner, Sennacherib’s Palace at Nineveh: the drawings of H.A. Churchill and the discoveries of H.J. Ross, «Iraq», 63 (2001), pp. 107-138 (cf. p. 107); J.M. Russell, Sennacherib’s Palace Without A Rival at Nineveh, Chicago 1991, p. 36, 39. Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 69

Then, in the period 21st March - 5th May 1850 the whole party, accompanied by Sheikh Suttum of the Shammar tribe as guide and protector, left Mosul for an extended trip to the River Khabur and to inspect sites such as Tell Arban. During this trip Cooper produced a number of watercolours which are amongst the recent acquisitions. Typical of these is a landscape painting showing the River Khabur, Jebel Abdulaziz in the distance, and three archaeological mounds that are identified asT ell Umerjeh, Tell Mijdel and Tell Dibbs (Fig. 8). Human interest is added with an encampment of black (bedouin) tents, galloping horsemen, some grazing animals, and a few human figures. Other watercolours originating in this journey include views of monuments in Sinjar28, a view of the fortress of Bash-Kala29, views of Lake Khatuniyeh, Jebel Sinjar and the extinct volcano of Kowkab, encampments and archaeological sites on the River Khabur including Tell Arban30, portraits of Sheikh Mohammed Ameen of the Jibouri tribe and members of his family and retinue31, Kurdish women and a meeting with a Kurdish chief32, and a charming view of a group of camels reproduced in Layard, Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon, figure on p. 336. So far, we have given every impression that Cooper was an exemplary member of the expedition. So why, then, did Layard write about him in the following terms: -- Layard to Sir Stratford Canning: «Neither of these gentlemen (Cooper or Sandwith) were at all qualified for an expedition of this kind and I have received little or no assistance from them»33. -- Layard to Ellis (?) from Mosul on 16th September 1850: «... Mr Cooper left me, as you have probably have heard, at Van. He was quite unequal in every way to an expedition of this kind. I want a

28 Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pls. 15-16. 29 For this fort, see A.H. Layard, Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon; With Travels in Armenia, Kurdistan and the Desert: Being the Result of a Second Expedition Undertaken for The Trustees of the British Museum, London - New York 1853, pp. 382-383. 30 Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pl. 17; Id., Universal Language. 31 Ibid. 32 Ibid. 33 M.T. Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria: Excavations in an Antique Land 1840-1860, London - New York 1996, p. 267. 70 John Curtis

man of some energy & discrimination whom I can trust. I don’t know whether it be the intention of the Trustees to send anyone out to take his place, but if it is wished that the expedition should be (properly) completed someone should come out. I cannot possibly do all the work myself...»34. So what went wrong? From the start, it is clear that Layard was fairly contemptuous of Cooper and had little time for him. Cooper was very homesick, missed his wife, and even painted a portrait of her from memory which he took out from to time to gaze at. He didn’t like the food, and suffered from the climate as it started to get hotter. Layard’s disapproval is even evident from his diary entries:

6 Feb 1850: Moving the colossal winged lions. The workmen get all manner of notions into their heads – at one time they declared that Mr Cooper was unlucky – he was ordered to leave, when the cart immediately progressed. 26th March 1850: We started at 1/4 to 8 (on the way to the Khabur) […] We entered a deep river gorge and soon began to ascend the hill by a very rapid & rather difficult ascent. Mr Cooper was the only one of our party who met with any disaster – he found himself off the tail of his horse – saddle & all – struggling with the hind legs of the animal. 29th March 1850: The wives of Kishnan, & all the three brothers were residing together under one tent, their children, dirty urchins, now spreading about. One with light hair, attenuated features, had already been christened the Musauer (the artist) for his supposed likeness to Mr Cooper. The name will probably stick to him as long as he lives. Beyond the evident personal dislike that Layard had for Cooper, there were other deeper reasons. First, there was the business with the Rollands. Initially, Layard enjoyed good relations with both of the Rollands. Of Charlotte he later recorded: «She is the only person who has given me the slightest assistance – copying inscriptions, notes MS. etc., and taking bearings

34 BM Letter books, 27th August 1850 to 18th February 1851. Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 71

– in fact always making herself most useful»35. She also helped packing the antiquities. This is corroborated by Cooper, who in his diary for Wednesday 23rd January 1850 recorded that «Mr. Layard assisted by Mrs. Rolland (was) very busy in the evening packing small antiquities for England». Although he was more interested in horses than archaeology, Stuart Rolland also helped on the excavations36. As Layard was initially friendly with the Rollands – he may even have had some sort of affair with Charlotte – and considered them helpful, it cannot have helped that Cooper was on bad terms with them. Thus in his diary for 10th March 1850 Cooper refers to «the Rollands, with whom I am not on good terms, owing to his arrogance and her little mischief making tongue». In the event, there was a lot of trouble with the Rollands. During the Khabur trip relations between Layard and Charlotte were sufficiently intimate to incite Stuart Rolland’s jealousy. Charlotte was accustomed to riding behind Layard on his camel37, and Layard and Charlotte together were allowed to visit the harem at a Shammar encampment38. On their return to Mosul relations were tense. On 6th June Rolland, ever tempestuous, exploded and started to beat his wife. They were separated by Layard and others, and Rolland was restrained, but on being released he attacked Layard and the servants had to intervene39. On arrival at the Kouyunjik mound next day (Friday 7th June), Cooper recorded in his diary that he «found that a great uproar had taken place the evening before – and that Mr. Rolland who had outraged all the decencies of society was under guard». Although Rolland apologised, perhaps grudgingly, he and his wife were asked to leave the excavation. Cooper recorded in his diary that on 14th June 1850 «the Rollands leave Mosul for ever». In a letter to Sara Austen Layard described his erstwhile

35 Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, p. 254. 36 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, pp. 204, 206. See report in «TheT imes», 6th March 1850, based on a letter sent to a correspondent in Britain by Stewart Erskine Rolland: «Layard has placed a party of the workmen under my control, and allowed me to dig where I please». 37 Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, p. 253. 38 A.H. Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, p. 262. 39 add MS 58156, letter from Layard to his uncle, Mosul, 10th June 1850, quoted in Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, p. 254. 72 John Curtis friend as «one of the most selfish, illbred, unfeeling and conceited men I ever met»40. Secondly, Cooper spent much of his time in Mosul socialising with Christian and Matilda Rassam and with the Rev George Percy Badger and his wife Maria. Clearly Layard did not approve of this, partly again because of their attitude towards Charlotte Rolland. Matilda Rassam and her husband and her missionary brother and his wife did not like Charlotte, with whom Layard was clearly greatly enamoured. Thus, in a letter to Ross, Layard wrote: «The Badgers and Rassam have acted most infamously (towards her) …after all I have done for the Rassams I confess I am astonished at the manner in which Mrs. R. has acted, although after the unprincipled acts which we both know her jealous and vindictive temper led her to commit, I might have expected anything»41. In the same letter, Layard describes «old Rassam» as «a donkey»42. And again, in another letter: «Mrs Rassam has behaved very unkindly to her (Charlotte Rolland) – all the fault of those cursed Badgers who are a regular pest»43. There was another reason for Layard’s dislike of the Badgers. He and Badger were in dispute about who had ‘discovered’ Nimrud44 and about their respective relations with the Nestorians. Layard felt that Badger was to blame for the Kurdish massacre of Christians in 1842, as during his previous stay in the area he had encouraged the patriarch to rebel against the local Kurdish ruler45. His description of «old Rassam» as «a donkey» is hard to explain away. Christian Rassam (1808-1872)46 was one of the leading merchants

40 Ibid., p. 253. 41 add MS 38979, letter from Layard to Ross, Mosul, 2nd September 1850, quoted in Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, p. 254. 42 add MS 38979, fols. 289-290, cited in Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, p. 254. 43 Ibid., p. 253. 44 A.R. Green, Julius Weber (1838-1906) and the Swiss Excavations at Nimrud in c. 1860, Together With Records of Other Nineteenth-Century Antiquarian Researches at the Site, in J.E. Curtis et al., eds., New Light on Nimrud: Proceedings of the Nimrud Conference 11th- 13th March 2002, London 2008, pp. 23-29; J.S. Guest, Survival Among the Kurds: A History of the Yezidis, London 1993, p. 110. 45 Roper, Badger, George Percy. 46 See the section about Christian Anthony Rassam in D. Wright, Rassam, Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 73 in Mosul, and had been appointed British Vice-Consul at Mosul in 1839, apparently as a reward for his services as interpreter to the Euphrates expedition under F.R. Chesney47. His wife was Matilda, the sister of the Anglican missionary George Percy Badger. She was born of English parents and brought up in Malta48. Layard was greatly in Rassam’s debt, as Christian had been instrumental in enabling him to start excavations in the first place. In order not to attract unwelcome attention, excavating tools were supplied by Christian Rassam, who managed a building business, and he, Layard, and Rassam’s business partner, Henry James Ross49, embarked for Nimrud on the pretence of going on a hunting trip50. It is worth recording here that Layard does not really acknowledge the great debt that he owed to the Rassam family. He is generous in his praise of Hormuzd51, but says little about Christian. Without them he would probably not have been able to work at all. Layard’s antipathy towards Christian Rassam must have made it difficult for his young brother Hormuzd. He has been described above as Layard’s secretary and paymaster, but he was clearly very much more than this, and it may not be an exaggeration to say that his services were indispensable. As described by Humphry Sandwith52: «His (Hormuzd Rassam’s) duties are multifarious. He acts as interpreter and secretary. He marshals the servants, keeps the money-bags, speaks all the unknown languages,

Hormuzd (1826-1910), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford 2004, (online edition, January 2008: , last accessed 27/07/2019). There is a drawing of him by William Brockedon in theN ational Portrait Gallery in London: NPG 2515(89). 47 See W.F. Ainsworth, A Personal Narrative of the Euphrates Expedition, Vol. 1, London 1888, p. XV: the ‘List of officers attached to the Euphrates Expedition’ includes Christian A. Rassam, described as «interpreter to the Expedition. Was in reward for his services appointed British Vice-Consul at Mosul». 48 Turner, Sennacherib’s Palace at Nineveh, p. 128 n. 45. 49 For details about the merchant and trader H.J. Ross, see Turner, Sennacherib’s Palace at Nineveh, p. 118 and www.britishmuseum.org/research/search_the_collection_ database. Ross left Mosul in July 1848 and transferred his business interests to Samsun on the Black Sea. 50 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, p. 117. 51 Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, pp. 101-102. 52 Quoted in Ward, Humphry Sandwith, p. 44. 74 John Curtis and keeps us all amused by his gaiety, varied by occasional sulks». This impression that Rassam was very much Layard’s major domo, and that he was very dependent upon him, is confirmed by entries in Cooper’s diary. Thus, when distinguished Bedouin visitors arrived on the 19th February 1851, Cooper records that «Layard and Hormuzd (were) very busy doing the polite». On 1st April, he notes that when the party made an excursion to Tell Arban on the River Khabur, Layard was not able to start excavating until Rassam had hired and organised the necessary workmen53. In the Nimrud and Nineveh excavations, if we are right to identify the figure wearing the red fez in the Cooper drawings as Rassam, they show him in a supervisory role, once standing with Layard and once in conference probably with the foreman Toma Shishman (Figs. 4, 6). After Layard’s departure, Rassam worked with great success at Kouyunjik from 1852 until 1854, discovering the North Palace of Ashurbanipal, with reliefs that included the magnificent series inR oom C showing the royal lion hunt, and large numbers of cuneiform tablets. Originally it had been intended that Cooper should stay in Mesopotamia until April 1851, but this was not to be. In 1850, work on the excavations continued into July. On the 9th of that month, in order to escape the murderous summer heat, Layard sent Cooper into the mountains, to the monastery of Mar Mattai, about 20 kms north of Mosul54. The intention was that after a mid-summer break Cooper should return to Mosul with Layard and Rassam. According to Layard’s account, «Mr Cooper [...] had so much declined in health that I sent him to the convent of Mar Metti [...] Mr Hormuzd Rassam and myself struggled on the longest». So how much longer did they stay? From

53 Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, p. 179. 54 according to Cooper’s diary, on the afternoon of 9th July «Layard was seized with the fever and fearful that I too might get it advised me to go and see Mr and Mrs Badger at Sheikh (Mutti)». He seems to have travelled in the early hours and morning of 10th July. This was actually only the day before Layard and Rassam left Mosul. This is not the impression one gets from Layard’s account «July had set in, and we were now in “the eye of the summer.” My companions had been unable to resist its heat. One by one we dropped off with fever […] Mr. Cooper […] had so much declined in health that I sent him to the convent of Mar Metti, on the summit of the Gebel Makloub. Mr. Hormuzd Rassam and myself struggled on the longest, but at length we also gave way» (Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, p. 365). Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 75

Layard’s account one might have assumed several weeks at least. In fact it was just two days more, and they left on the 11th July. According to Cooper’s diary, on the 9th July it was Layard who was suffering from a high fever, and he suggested that to avoid getting it Cooper should go to the convent. On 2nd August the party arrived at Van (Cooper diary), and Layard decided that Cooper and Sandwith should not return to Mosul, so he sent them on to Constantinople. Although Layard does acknowledge the contribution of Cooper in his introduction to the Monuments of Nineveh, 2nd Series (p. vi) – «The original drawings of the sculptures were made by Mr F.C. Cooper, the late Mr Bell (the artists sent to Assyria by the trustees of the British Museum), and myself» – he makes no mention at all of Cooper in the preface to Nineveh and Babylon. He does thank Hormuzd Rassam, and, amongst others, the Rev. S.C. Malan, «who has kindly allowed me the use of his masterly sketches». In fact, there are 20 drawings in Nineveh and Babylon attributed to Cooper, and at least another nine not attributed55. By contrast, 16 drawings of Malan have been reproduced. was a prolific amateur artist and polymath who during the course of an extended tour of Europe and the Middle East in 1849- 1850 stayed at Mosul for 10 days in June 1850 and made a number of watercolour sketches of the excavations at Nimrud and Nineveh56. They are in a distinctive style which consisted of making remarkably accurate pencil drawings and then enhancing them with watercolour57. Joseph Bonomi also uses Cooper drawings without acknowledgment58. What of Cooper as an artist? The art historian H.L. Mallalieu has written in his Dictionary of British Watercolour Artists up to 1920:

55 Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, figs. on pp. 66, 111, 124, 175, 272, 336, 349, 360. The sketches of tunnels along the western and eastern basement walls at Nimrud (Ibid., p. 124) are known to be by Cooper, because on 18th March 1850 Layard writes to Ellis saying that an entrance to the high pyramidal mound (the ziggurat) has been found, flanked by winged lions, and that Cooper has made a sketch of the stone wall discovered. 56 C.J. Gadd, A Visiting Artist at Nineveh in 1850, «Iraq», 5 (1938), pp. 118-122. 57 For background information about Malan and his works see A.N. Malan, Solomon Caesar Malan, D.D., Memorials of his Life and Writing, London 1897; P.L. Bonfitto. Harmony in Contrast: The Drawings of Solomon Caesar Malan, «Getty Research Journal», 7 (2015), pp. 169-76. 58 e.g. J. Bonomi, Nineveh and Its Palaces, London 1869, opp. p. 38. 76 John Curtis

«Cooper’s landscapes are effective, but his figures can be rather shaky»59. More damning, he says that that «Layard seems to have taken credit for some of Cooper’s better work». However that may be, Cooper has left behind a substantial body of work that can certainly be attributed to him. This includes some views that have become iconic, such as those showing Layard supervising the removal from the excavations at Nimrud of a colossal winged lion (Fig. 4) and the same piece being transported on a raft down the River Tigris60. Indeed, the scene showing the colossal stone lion being lowered with ropes has become so famous that it was used as the illustration on the cover of a booklet of British postage stamps in 1992 (Fig. 9). The conclusion seems inescapable, then, that Cooper has been roughly treated by posterity, largely because of Layard’s animosity towards him. What of Cooper after Assyria? On his return to England, Cooper was not slow to capitalise on his experiences in Assyria. In thanking Cooper for his help with his book on the Nestorians, in the preface the Rev. George Percy Badger wrote: The task, however, of preparing these illustrations for the press devolved upon F.C. Cooper, Esq., the artist who was associated with Mr. Layard, by the authorities of the British Museum, to perpetuate by his pencil the long-lost relics of the power and skill of the Ancient Assyrians. Mr Cooper has lately been making a laudable effort to communicate to the public a portion of his Eastern acquirements, in a popular form, by means of a diorama of Nineveh; and, it is to be hoped, that he will ere long publish the contents of a well-assorted portfolio, illustrative of oriental costume and manners, which he collected during his sojourn in Mesopotamia and Coordistan. The reader will not fail to perceive how much these volumes owe to the talents of the above-named gentlemen; and to Mr. Cooper especially, are the thanks of the author due for his

59 H.L. Mallalieu, The Dictionary of British Watercolour Artists up to 1920, Woodbridge, 1986, p. 86. For Cooper as an artist, see also Graves, The Royal Academy of Arts, p. 146; Benezit Dictionary of Artists, Gründ 2006, Vol. 3, p. 351; Allgemeines Lexikon der bildenden Kunstler, edited by U. Thieme - F. Becker, entry for F.C. Cooper. 60 Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, col. pl. II. Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 77

generous and unsolicited offer to undertake a task which has cost him no little time and trouble61. What was the diorama to which Badger referred? This was apparently a series of 37 large-scale images illustrating the journey to Assyria, the excavations at Nimrud and Nineveh, and the visit to the Khabur62. It was unveiled at the Gothic Hall in 1851, and proved to be very popular. This cannot have been very much to Layard’s liking, as on 16th September 1850 he had written to Sara Austen from Mosul– «You must not let Mr Cooper be too active in talking or publishing. I hope he will be quite quiet until I return»63. In fact, so great was the demand for Cooper’s presentation that he was giving lectures and showing the diorama for at least the following five years. Thus, we find him writing on 9th January 1856 a letter64 to an unknown institution as follows:

Dear Sir, Having received an offer from the Weymouth Institution for the delivery of my Dioramic lecture descriptive of Layard’s last visit to the buried city, I write to you to say that if your list is not made up and you would like to engage my services for your Institute about the 25th of January or the beginning of February I shall be able to offer it to you at the reduced charge of £6-10-00 inclusive of everything excepting the necessary assistance for the arrangement of my apparatus – or if you would like a morning performance to a separate audience I can give you the two lectures upon the same day for £7-10-00. The favour of a reply at your earliest convenience will oblige Dear Sir Yours very obediently F.C. Cooper Artist to the Expedition

61 Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals, Vol. I, p. VII. 62 S. Malley, From Archaeology to Spectacle in Victorian Britain: The Case of Assyria, 1845-1854, Farnham 2012, pp. 11, 132. 63 Ibid. 64 The letter, sent from 73 Milton Street, Dorset Square (now Balcombe Street) in the Marylebone district of London, together with the accompanying printed sheets, is now in a private collection. They were bought on Ebay on 28th August 2017. 78 John Curtis

This letter was accompanied by a description of the lecture (Fig. 10) which was in two parts. We are also informed that the diorama consisted of «numerous large Paintings (upwards of 9-feet by 6-feet) by MR COOPER, from his own sketches taken upon the spot, – comprising Views of CONSTANTINOPLE - SINOPE - Trebizond - Erzroum - MOSUL - Bazaars - Layard’s House - Chaldean Church - THE MOUNDS OF DESOLATION -THE EXCAVATIONS - THE TOMB OF JONAH - Nimroud - THE GATEWAY OF HUMAN- HEADED LIONS - Table of Sculptures - Nisroc - Oannes, the Fish God - The Sacred Tree - The King - Putting out the Eyes of Captives - Counting Heads - A modern Arab Encampment - Nestorian Mountain Scenery - and the Stronghold of a Kurdish Bey. Accompanied by a coloured Map, showing the Ancient Divisions of the Country». There was also a list of «Testimonials & Opinions of the Press» (Fig. 11), testifying to the great interest of the lectures and the excellence of Mr Cooper’s deliveries; we are told in one of them that «there is an easy and refined manner about him which is a great relief from the usual formal and parrot-like addresses of dioramic demonstrators». After he returned to England Cooper remained on good terms with Hormuzd Rassam, and in the autumn of 1852, while Rassam was in London, he painted two portraits of him, one in western dress and in oriental dress65. Also in 1852, he exhibited at the Royal Academy a painting entitled Scene from the excavations of Nineveh, taken from a sketch made on the spot, while engaged with A.H. Layard, Esq.66. After 1856, we do not know much about Cooper. He exhibited again at the Royal Academy in 1860, this time a work described as follows: The plains of Nineveh from the Tanner’s Ferry near Mosul, from the sketches taken by the artist on the spot. The distant mound, on the right of the picture, is the mound of Kouyunjick, found to be so rich in Assyrian sculptures; that on the left is Nebbi Unas, surmounted by the tomb of Jonah, a spot held too sacred to allow of the operations of infidel excavators. Between the mounds are still traceable the remains of ancient walls67. After an interval of eight years, in 1868, he exhibited for the last time at the

65 Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, pp. 328-329; R.D. Barnett, Sculptures from the North Palace of Ashurbanipal at Nineveh (668-627 B.C.), London 1976, figs 3, 4. 66 Graves, The Royal Academy of Arts, p. 147. 67 Ibid., p. 146. Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 79

Royal Academy, with a work entitled The Souvenir68. He is thought to have died in about 1880. Let is now consider the other artists on the expedition. Layard returned to Assyria on 12th August 1850 and in due course the British Museum trustees sent another artist out to work for him. This was Thomas Septimus Bell, who arrived in Iraq in early 185169. However, he was not to Layard’s liking, and in April 1851 Layard wrote to Canning: «The artist who has now been sent out here is a mere boy, very willing and industrious, but not the person any enlightened government would dream of sending out on such an expedition»70. Exactly what Bell accomplished is not quite clear, as his drawings have been mixed up with those of Cooper and the later artist Hodder71, but a drawing of the sculptures at Bavian (Fig. 12) is usually attributed to him. Sadly Bell drowned while bathing in the River Gommel on 13th May 1851. Layard had already left Iraq for the last time on 28th April 185172, and he received the news that Bell had drowned in a letter from Christian Rassam when he arrived at Iskenderun (Alexandretta)73. In 1852, after Layard had left Mesopotamia, the Trustees sent out to Mosul another young and inexperienced artist, Charles Doswell Hodder74. He arrived in spring 1852 and stayed until early 1854. He drew some sculptures which had not been drawn previously, and redrew some others. He did some useful work in carefully recording how the different parts of the Sennacherib reliefs showing the siege of Lachish fitted together, and numbering the pieces so that they could be reconstructed in London (Fig. 13)75, but he accomplished little and was apparently regarded with some contempt by Layard. Uehlinger is also critical of the accuracy of his work76.

68 Ibid. 69 C.J. Gadd, The Stones of Assyria, London 1936, p. 69. 70 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, pp. 222. 71 Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace, p. 16. 72 Gadd, The Stones of Assyria, p. 70; Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, p. 290. 73 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, pp. 222-223. 74 Gadd, The Stones of Assyria, p. 78-79; Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace, pp. 16-17. 75 Barnett-Bleibtreu-Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace, pls. 326-327. 76 C. Uehlinger, Clio in a World of Pictures: Another Look at the Lachish Reliefs from Sennacherib’s Southwest Palace at Nineveh, in L.L. Grabe, ed., Like a Bird in a Cage: 80 John Curtis

Up until now we have been considering artists who worked on the excavations recording the Assyrian reliefs, but other artists were involved drawing the material when it arrived back in London. Foremost amongst these was Edward Prentis (1797-1854)77. He was a genre painter whose works included paintings such as A Girl with Matches, The Profligate’s Return from the Alehouse and The Folly of Extravagance. He exhibited regularly at the Royal Academy and at the Society of British Artists. In 1850 he presented to the British Museum a group of old master drawings formerly in the collection of Sir Joshua Reynolds78. Prentis had been engaged in 1848 by the Trustees of the British Museum to draw some of the ivories that Layard had found at Nimrud and had shown himself to be a superb draftsman79. Some of his exquisite drawings of ivories are reproduced in the first series of Monuments of Nineveh (pls 88-91)80. When the collection now known as the Nimrud Bowls arrived back in Britain in July 1851 Prentis was therefore an obvious choice to be called on to draw them. This is a large collection of bronze bowls mostly with embossed and chased decoration in the Phoenician style. They had been found in the so-called Room of the Bronzes which had been sketched by Cooper (Fig. 3). Before they could be drawn, however, they had to be cleaned and conserved, which was no easy task. In turn, TheT rustees approached the eminent British scientist Professor Michael Faraday (1791-1867) who was already famous for his discoveries in the fields of electricity, magnetism and chemistry, then Professor William Brande (1788-1866) at the Royal Mint, and lastly the British Museum technician John Doubleday. There were still worries, however, that it would not be possible to conserve the bowls, and Prentis was engaged by the Trustees to draw all the most interesting specimens and record the decoration on them for posterity. The tinted drawings produced by Edward Prentis are in fact exquisite (Fig. 14), and are still a valuable the Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE, «Journal for the Study of the Old Testament», Supplementary Series 363 (2003), pp. 221-305. See esp. pp. 227, 267, plus notes. 77 See Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Vol. 46. 78 www.britishmuseum.org/research/search_the_collection. 79 G. Herrmann - S. Laidlaw, Ivories from the North-West Palace (1845-1992) (Ivories from Nimrud, 6), London 2009, p. 30. 80 A few of Prentis’s drawings are also reproduced in Barnett’s catalogue of Nimrud ivories (R.D. Barnett, A Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories, London 1975), but the name of the artist is not acknowledged. Layard’s Relationship with F.C. Cooper 81 resource for the condition of the bowls soon after their excavation. The most interesting of these drawings were reproduced as engravings in Monuments of Nineveh, which brings us on to the publication. The first series of Monuments of Nineveh had been published by John Murray in 1849, and the Trustees readily agreed that John Murray could have, in Layard’s words, the «use of the drawings made by Messrs Cooper & Bell and myself during the last expeditions to Nineveh». The engravings for this splendid volume were actually made by Ludwig Gruner (1801- 1882), the distinguished 19th century artist and art historian who was the art adviser to Prince Albert. We have considered in some detail the artists who worked with or for Layard, but what of Layard himself? Was he a genius? Yes, I think he was, on three counts, as an archaeologist, as an historian and as a writer. In terms of archaeological understanding he was far ahead of his time, he had an excellent grasp of ancient and modern history, and he was able to write with great flair. He was also exceptionally energetic and industrious. However, he was rather loathe to give proper credit to those who worked with him. His treatment of Cooper was highly reprehensible, and he never fully acknowledged the help that he had from Christian Rassam. Without him, and his brother Hormuzd, he probably would not have been able to excavate at all.

Appendix

Cooper drawings acquired by the British Museum in 2009 (All watercolours except 2010,6001.14)

2010,6001.1 Moving a colossal winged lion at Nimrud (Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pl. 12; here Fig. 4) 2010,6001.2 Layard supervising excavations at Nineveh (Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pl. 13; here Fig. 5) 2010,6001.3 A Tiyari workman digging in a tunnel at Nineveh (Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pl. 14; here Fig. 6) 2010,6001.4 The ruins at Beled Sinjar (Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pl. 15). 2010,6001.5 The minaret of the Madrasa of Sultan Kutb al-Din Muhammad in Sinjar and on the reverse an elaborate minaret in Mosul (Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pl. 16) 82 John Curtis

2010,6001.6 Tell Arban with bedouin tents and Layard’s camp (Curtis, A Victorian Artist in Assyria, pl. 17) 2010,6001.7 A Kurdish encampment on the banks of the River Khabur (Curtis, Universal Language, fig. on p. 39; J.E. Curtis - N. Tallis - A. Johansen, The Horse from Arabia to Royal Ascot, London 2012, fig. 15) 2010,6001.8 A meeting with a Kurdish chief inside a large tent (Curtis, Universal Language, fig. on pp. 36-37; Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, fig on p. 321) 2010,6001.9 An armed Arab of the Jibouri tribe (Curtis, Universal Language, fig. on p. 38) 2010,6001.10 Three Kurdish women (Curtis, Universal Language, fig. on p. 38) 2010,6001.11 Sheikh Mohammed Ameen of the Jibouri tribe (Curtis, Universal Language, fig. on p. 37; Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, fig on p. 272 (drawing reversed)). 2010,6001.12 A deceased or sick man lying outside a bedouin tent. 2010,6001.13 Two sons of Sheikh Mohammed Ameen with a servant. 2010,6001.14 Pen and ink drawing annotated ‘Convent of Saint Daniel’. 2010,6001.15 An archaeological mound with Kurdish tents to the left of it. Annotated Allam Jirgeh. 2010,6001.16 A distant view of Jebel Sinjar 2010,6001.17 A group of ten figures in local dress who are identified below as follows: Shamoun, Ampseer, Sechees, Fetah, Latif Agha, Thoma, Arabs (here Fig. 7) 2010,6001.18 Bedouin tents on the banks of the River Khabur with Jebel Abdulaziz in the far distance (here Fig. 8) 2010,6001.19 Lake Khatuniyeh with Jebel Sinjar in the distance 2010,6001.20 The site of Al Khamir on the River Khabur 2010,6001.21 The extinct volcano of Kowkab 2010,6001.22 The River Khabur with Tell Arban, Jebel Abdulaziz, and Mount Kowkab. 2010,6001.23 the fortress of Bash Kaleh 2010,6001.24 A European tent, probably Layard’s, and bedouin tents on the banks of the river Khabur. 2010,6001.25 A cemetery at Kowkab 2010,6001.26 Tombs at Ahlat in Turkey 2010,6001.27 A group of camels in front of an archaeological site (Layard, Nineveh and Babylon, fig. on p. 336) 2010,6001.28 Landscape with Lake Khatuniyeh (?) and Mount Kowkab (?) in the far distance Fig. 1 - Drawing by F.C. Cooper of a relief showing workmen hauling a colossal stone bull from the quarry. London, British Museum, 2007,6024.170. Fig. 2 - Drawing of a Nineveh relief probably by F.C. Cooper showing a file of captives from one of Sennacherib’s campaigns. London, British Museum, 2007,6024.45. 83 Fig. 3 - Watercolour by F.C. Cooper showing the well in the ‘Room of the Bronzes’ at Nimrud, London, British Museum. Fig. 4 - Watercolour by F.C. Cooper showing the removal of a colossal winged lion at Nimrud. London, British Museum, 2010,6001.1. 84 Fig. 5 - Watercolour by F.C. Cooper of Layard supervising excavations at Nineveh. London, British Museum, 2010,6001.2. Fig. 6 - Watercolour by F.C. Cooper showing a Tiyari workman digging in a tunnel at Nineveh. London, British Museum, 2010,6001.3. 85 Fig. 7 - Watercolour by F.C. Cooper showing a group of ten figures in local dress who are identified below as follows: Shamoun, Ampseer, Sechees, Fetah, Latif Agha, Thoma, Arabs. London, British Museum, 2010,6001.17. Fig. 8 - Watercolour by F.C. Cooper showing bedouin tents on the banks of the River Khabur with Jebel Abdulaziz in the far distance. London, British Museum 2010,6001.18. Fig. 9 - Cover of stamp booklet issued in 1992 with scene from Layard’s excavations at Nimrud. Private collection. 86 Fig. 10 - Printed description of F.C. Cooper’s dioramic lecture entitled “Constantinople to Nineveh”. Private collection. Fig. 11 - Printed list of testimonials relating to F.C. Cooper’s lectures on “Nineveh and travels in Turkey”. Private collection. Fig. 12 - Drawing probably by Thomas Septimus Bell of Bavian.­ London, Bri­tish Museum, 2007, 6024.100. 87 Fig. 13 - Drawing by Charles Doswell Hodder of a fragmentary relief showing Sennacherib seated on his throne at the siege of Lachish. London, British Museum, 2007,6024.83, from Barnett - Bleibtreu - Turner, Sculptures from the Southwest Palace, pl. 344. 88 Fig. 14 - Drawing by Edward Prentis of a Nimrud bowl, London, British Museum. 89

Georgina Herrmann1

Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories

Abstract In 1839 the young Henry Layard set out with a companion to ride across Europe, Anatolia and Syria to Mosul, where he was deeply impressed by the mounds of Assyria. In 1845, after numerous adventures, he succeeded in raising sponsorship and returned to begin excavations at the Assyrian capital city of Nimrud, ancient Kalhu. His discoveries were astounding. As well as the superb Assyrian reliefs and great gateway figures, many of which are in the British Museum, he also found small antiquities, including the first ivories. A small collection found in the North West Palace of Ashurnasirpal II included sets of Syro-Phoenician ivories, which were versions of Phoenician originals. It has been possible to identify the different craftsmen making these panels. He also found the first examples of the beautiful Egyptianizing ivories, ivories based on Egyptian originals but made in Phoenicia. Six years later in 1851 Layard left Nimrud, never to return. He then followed a political and diplomatic career.

Introduction

Henry Layard was descended from a distinguished family of Huguenots2. His father, Henry Peter John Layard (1783-1834), was the

1 a paper given at Venice, March 5 and 6, 2018, at a conference organized by Dr. Stefania Ermidoro and Dr. Cecilia Riva and dedicated to Sir Austen Henry Layard (1817- 1894), in celebration of the bicentenary of his birth. It is the second conference dedicated to Layard in Venice: the first being organized by Professor F.M. Fales and B.J. Hickey from October 26-28 1983, Austen Henry Layard tra l’Oriente e Venezia. I am very grateful to Stefania and Cecilia for inviting me. 2 Much of the following section is based on Gordon Waterfield’s excellent biography: cf. G. Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, London 1963, pp. 11-26. 92 Georgina Herrmann second son of the Dean of Bristol. Together with his younger brother Charles, Henry was farmed out to a Mr. Christian at Ramsgate. As soon as they were old enough, the two brothers sailed to Ceylon to seek their fortunes. While Charles succeeded, Peter developed such bad asthma that he had to return to England, where he married Marianne, the attractive daughter of the banker, Nathaniel Austen. Their first son, one of four, was born in Paris on March 5, 1817, and was baptized Henry Austen. The family was not wealthy and Peter’s health was an ongoing problem. They tried to find a place where his asthma would be less troublesome and where they could live fairly economically. They settled on Florence, which they considered the best and pleasantest place to live, renting a floor of the early Renaissance Rucellai Palace. As in Ceylon, Peter entertained generously: poets, painters, writers, antiquaries and travellers were always welcome. This meant that the young Layard had an unusual and incredibly valuable upbringing, where he met all sorts of people. His father, a connoisseur of Italian painting, taught his son about the great masters and how to distinguish one from another, and he learned to draw, all of which were to prove to be of fundamental importance for his work at Nimrud. He read widely and was much influenced by his favourite book, the Arabian Nights, which he was still reading in old age. Although the family was very happy in Florence, they decided that their sons needed a more formal education. So in 1829, when Henry was 12 and Frederick ten, the family returned to Ramsgate. Henry was sent to a school in Richmond, where he was very unhappy and bullied because he was a foreigner and spoke French and Italian. Although he did well, especially in the Classics, his parents could not afford to send him to university. This he always regretted: «Had I been properly taught and had I received a university training, I might have become a fair scholar»3. During these years he saw little of his mother and father, whom he greatly missed. He spent some holidays with his uncle and aunt, the Austens, at their house in Guilford Street: they later moved to Montague Place. Sara Austen entertained many of the painters and authors of the

3 Ibid., p. 16. Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories 93 day, with Disraeli being her favourite. Layard had already met Disraeli in Florence and was fascinated by this colourful and charismatic man, whom he looked on as a great traveller in Eastern lands. In 1834 Henry, aged seventeen, was formally enrolled into the Austen law firm with articles dated January 24 and signed by Benjamin Austen, Peter Layard and Henry4. Henry was thus considered to be Benjamin Austen’s heir. However, Henry could not bring himself to concentrate on the law, and Benjamin was disappointed with him. He also disliked Henry’s radical views and friends, as the Austens were High Tories. Henry’s father died later that year at the age of 51, and Layard became the ‘man of the family’. For the next few years he led a miserable life, living in lodgings and short of money. After a holiday in northern in 1837, he returned refreshed and full of ambition and asked his uncle to make him a full partner, even though he hated the law: not surprisingly, he was refused. In 1838 he again went travelling visiting Finland, Denmark and Russia and making detailed notes of all he saw. This was a habit, which he was to continue. He began a long association with John Murray, the publisher, supplying him with useful information5. Fortunately for Henry, his successful uncle Charles returned to England and, consulting with Benjamin Austen, suggested that he should go to Ceylon to practice as a barrister. Charles introduced him to Edward Mitford, an adventurous man of 32, who was planning to go to Ceylon to grow coffee and proposed that they should travel out together6. Since Mitford suffered from sea-sickness, he planned to travel overland rather than by sea. Henry was delighted and prepared energetically, consulting members of the Royal Geographical Society and other travellers and ambassadors. The two set out in July 1839 to cross Europe and Anatolia, travelling as the crusader knights had done on horseback, following the old Roman routes. They reached Constantinople in September and were delighted with it: «It even exceeds any description I have seen. The imagination could not picture a site more beautiful as that occupied by

4 Ibid., p. 17. 5 Ibid., p. 24. 6 Ibid., pp. 25-26. 94 Georgina Herrmann

Constantinople»7. As they were about to leave, Henry became seriously ill with malaria and nearly died. He was to be plagued by recurrent malaria for the rest of his life. However, being tough, he recovered and was able to catch up Mitford at the beginning of October. The next phase of their journey was more difficult, but despite their different temperaments and interests they got on well:

We were both equally careless of comfort and unmindful of danger. We rode alone; our arms were our only protection; a valise behind our saddles was our wardrobe, and we tended our own horses, except when relieved from the duty by the hospitable inhabitants of a Turcoman village or an Arab tent. Thus unembarrassed by needless luxuries, and uninfluenced by the opinions and prejudices of others, we mixed amongst the people, acquired without effort their manners, and enjoyed without alloy those emotions which scenes so novel, and spots so rich in association, cannot fail to produce8. They were delighted by the landscape, the classical ruins and the early Christian churches in Asia Minor. Mitford enjoyed their simple life and described how well they lived on dried fish-roes, carob beans and unleavened bread: «on one occasion I lived for four or five days on the small dry figs, which are strung like necklaces and sold in the bazaars, and yet my health did not suffer»9. They travelled on through Syria to visit Jerusalem.

After winding […] through mournful and deserted country, we came suddenly in sight of the Dome of the Mosque of Omar, and the cupolas of the Church and Convent of the Holy Sepulchre […] Our joy […] at seeing at last the City before us […] was scarcely less than that of the pilgrim crusaders10. After Jerusalem, Layard insisted on visiting Petra, which he was told was extremely dangerous, and the two parted company. Layard only just survived this adventure before travelling to Jerash and Damascus, where

7 Ibid., p. 29. 8 A.H. Layard, Nineveh and Its Remains. With an Account of a Visit to the Chaldaean Christians of Kurdistan, and the Yezidis, or Devil-Worshippers, Vol. 1, London 1849, pp. 1-2. 9 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, p. 31. 10 Ibid., p. 33. Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories 95

Mitford had tired of waiting for him. The two finally met at Aleppo, where they prepared for their long journey to Mosul and Baghdad by purchasing a couple of horses and cutting down their luggage even further. They left Aleppo on March 18, 1840, setting off to traverse some of the most unfrequented roads of Turkish Arabia, reaching Mosul at the beginning of April in 1840. They spent a fortnight, visiting the massive ruins of the three great Assyrian cities, Nuniya or Nineveh, across the Tigris from Mosul, Nimrud or Calah, further down the river and the first Assyrian capital, Kala Shergat or Ashur. As Layard wrote:

These huge mounds ofA ssyria made a deeper impression upon me, gave rise to more serious thoughts and more earnest reflection, than the temples of Baalbek and the theatres of Ionia. […] A deep mystery hangs over Assyria, Babylonia, and Chaldaea. With these names are linked great nations and great cities dimly shadowed forth in history; mighty ruins in the midst of deserts, defying, by their very desolation and lack of definite form, the description of the traveller; the remnants of the mighty races still roving over the land; the fulfilling and fulfilment of prophecies; the plains to which the Jew and the Gentile alike look as the cradle of their race11. He also described seeing Nimrud as he drifted down the Tigris on a kelek or raft:

It was evening as we approached the spot. The spring rains had clothed the mound with the richest verdure, and the fertile meadows, which stretched around it, were covered with flowers of every hue. Amidst this luxuriant vegetation were partly concealed a few fragments of brick, pottery, and alabaster, upon which might be traced the well- defined wedges of the cuneiform character. Did not these remains mark the nature of the ruin, it might have been confounded with a natural eminence. A long line of consecutive narrow mounds, still retaining the appearance of walls, or ramparts, stretched from its base and formed a vast quadrangle12.

My curiosity had been greatly excited, and from that time I formed

11 Ibid., p. 41. 12 Layard, Nineveh and its Remains, Vol. 1, p. 7. 96 Georgina Herrmann

the design of thoroughly examining, whenever it might be in my power, these singular ruins13. The two continued their journey to Baghdad, then travelled overland to Kermanshah, visiting Bisitun with its remarkable reliefs and inscription. These are carved high up a vertical cliff and are hard of access14. The inscriptions are written in cuneiform in three different languages and had, with considerable difficulty, been copied by Henry Rawlinson: they were to prove to be the Rosetta Stone of cuneiform. At this time there was considerable European interest in its decipherment, particularly because of the light it might shed on connections between Assyria and the Old Testament. Layard wanted to spend a long time at Bisitun, but he and Mitford were told that they had to visit the Shah to secure permission to continue their journey to India. This was only granted provided they agreed to travel via Meshed and Herat. Once again the two disagreed. Mitford wanted to reach Ceylon, while the headstrong Layard was determined to travel in the Bakhtiari mountains. By this time Layard had lost any inclination he may have had to find employment in Ceylon, so the two parted company on 20 August 1840. Layard spent the next nine months visiting Isfahan and adventuring with the Bakhtiari (Fig. 1). That he survived at all is testament to his incredible powers of endurance, resourcefulness and his ability to overcome whatever perils he met. He made detailed notes of all he saw and later wrote a vivid description of his journey in Early Adventures in Persia, Susiana and Babylonia15. However, even when returning to Baghdad, he was again attacked and stripped of all his belongings. He arrived at the gates before sunrise. A party of Europeans riding out hardly looked at the dirty Arab, crouching there, barefoot and in rags. Fortunately his friend, Dr. Ross, riding behind them, rescued him16. He was in a terrible state and required many days to recover. These

13 Ibid., p. 9. 14 M.T. Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria: Excavations in an Antique Land 1840-1860, London - New York 1994, pp. 48-50. 15 A.H. Layard, Early Adventures in Persia, Susiana, and Babylonia. Including a Residence among the Bakhtiyari and Other Wild Tribes before the Discovery of Nineveh, London 1887. 16 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, p. 80. Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories 97 adventures prepared this short, tough, stocky man for the considerable privations he would later endure when working at Nimrud. While in Baghdad he wrote a long and detailed report on the political and economic conditions, where he had been and what he had seen. With Persia and Turkey at war, Layard’s knowledge was of considerable importance, and Colonel Taylor, the Political Resident in Baghdad, sent him to see the Ambassador, Sir Stratford Canning, in Constantinople. Riding with a tatar (Turkish post-rider), the two rode day and night, covering the 250 miles to Mosul in 50 hours17.

The beginnings of Assyriology

Layard stayed in Mosul for a few days (June 1842), and while there he met the recently appointed French Consul, Paul Émile Botta18. Botta had been sent out to see whether the accounts by the brilliant Orientalist, Claudius Rich, of Assyrian antiquities were correct. Rich had reported that sculptures of men and animals had been found in one of the mounds near Mosul, but these had been destroyed at the orders of local religious leaders. Botta was a charming and intelligent man, and he and Layard became friends. They visited the mounds across the river and read the Old Testament with its descriptions of the all-conquering Assyrians and their great city of Nineveh, as well as the Greek and Roman classics. Botta had opened a few trenches on Kuyunjik (Nineveh) but found nothing. No one had tried before to excavate these huge, multi-layer sites, and the Assyrian levels at Kuyunjik were deeply buried. Layard suggested that he visit Nimrud, but, fortunately for Layard, Botta chose to move to the village of Khorsabad, at the suggestion of one of his workmen who lived there. Layard travelled on to Constantinople to deliver his reports to Sir Stratford Canning, the dynamic and powerful ambassador to the Ottoman Court. Canning employed him for some years as an assistant, during which he tried to interest Canning to finance an expedition to Nimrud. Meanwhile Botta discovered what proved to be the ruins of

17 Ibid., pp. 88-89. 18 Ibid., p. 89. 98 Georgina Herrmann the palace of Sargon II (722-705)19. This was easy to excavate, since the remains were near the surface. His finds were sensational. Nearly all the walls were decorated with limestone slabs, covered with carvings of men and animals, gods and monsters. Botta wrote reports to Paris sent via Constantinople, which he urged Layard to copy and publish. He was incredibly generous, constantly asking Layard to join him. His discoveries caused great excitement in Paris. He was not only given adequate financial support but also allocated an experienced artist, Eugene Flandin. Using Botta’s letters and Flandin’s superb drawings, Layard wrote a series of articles, which were published in The Times in January 1845, and he also reported Botta’s discoveries in England, raising interest in Assyria. Meanwhile Rawlinson, who had been appointed Resident in Baghdad in succession to Colonel Taylor, was trying to unlock the cuneiform system. Although the Bisitun inscription was the principal key, he wanted more material and contacted Layard, as he was anxious to see copies of inscriptions made by Layard when in the Bakhtiari mountains. Layard again pressed Canning to support an expedition. Asked for an estimate of probable costs, he said that he would need «£30 for the journey, 4-5 piastres per day per worker, 3-400 piastres a month for a guard, plus expenses for a small tent and a horse; in all he thought that it would cost some 15,000 piastres, corresponding to £138 – “say £150”»20. So, finally, more than three years after he left Mosul in 1842, he returned, at last able to start work at Nimrud, but with limited funds and no official permit. The Pasha was known to be extremely difficult, so Layard hoped to avoid any problems by planning in secret. On November 8, 1845, accompanied by the British Consul, Christian Rassam, and an English merchant, Henry Ross, he set off on a ‘hunting expedition’ floating down the river on a kelek. The countryside was in a desperate state; most of the villages were deserted, the local tribes having been crushed by the pasha21. Staying overnight in a hovel, they enlisted the help of a local sheikh, Awad, who agreed to find a few workmen.

19 Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, p. 67. 20 Ibid., p. 70. 21 Ibid., p. 72. Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories 99

The day already dawned; he [Awad] had returned with six Arabs, who agreed for a small sum to work under my direction. The lofty cone and broad mound of Nimrud broke like a distant mountain in the morning sky22. Fortunately for Layard, there was not the deep overburden at Nimrud that there was at Nineveh. As they walked round the mound, Awad led Layard

to a piece of alabaster which appeared above the soil. We could not remove it, and on digging downward, it proved to be the upper part of a large slab. I ordered all the men to work around it, and they shortly uncovered a second slab to which it had been united. Continuing in the same line, we came upon a third; and, in the course of the morning, laid bare ten more, the whole forming a square, with one stone missing at the N.W. corner23. The totally untrainedL ayard had had the incredible good fortune on his very first day to discover a small room in what proved to be the North West Palace. He excavated the State Apartments of the North West Palace, trenching round the walls, where he found superb carved bas-reliefs, as well as the great lamassu gateway figures, all of which he recorded and drew (Fig. 2). He also found the famous Black Obelisk24, one of his most important finds. With cuneiform still unread, Layard could not know that the monument showed Jehu, king of Israel, lying at the feet of the Assyrian king (Fig. 3). When it could finally be read, the Black Obelisk became of enormous importance, illustrating the connections between the Old Testament and Assyria.

Layard’s ivories

It is for these discoveries that he is, of course, principally famous. However, he also found many small antiquities. As early as his second day, in the rubbish near the bottom of the first room, he found «several

22 Layard, Nineveh and its Remains, Vol. 1, p. 25. 23 Ibid., p. 26. 24 Ibid., pp. 346-347. 100 Georgina Herrmann ivory ornaments, upon which were traces of gilding; amongst them was the figure of a man in long robes, carrying in one hand the Egyptian crux ansata, part of a crouching sphinx, and flowers designed with great taste and elegance»25.

The smallness of the sum placed at my disposal, compelled me […] to dig trenches along the sides of the chambers, and to expose the whole of the slabs, without removing the earth from the centre. Thus, few of the chambers were fully explored; and many small objects of great interest may have been left undiscovered. As I was directed to bury the building with earth after it had been explored, to avoid unnecessary expense, I filled up the chambers with the rubbish taken from those subsequently uncovered, having first examined the walls, copied their inscriptions and drawn the sculptures26. Despite these financial problems and his lack of qualified assistants, Layard was truly remarkable, because, in addition to digging up and drawing the slabs, he found time to record their original positions. Each slab was numbered and marked on his plan (Fig. 4). On their return to London this made it possible not only to establish their original order – and therefore to understand their programme – but also correctly to re-unite the slabs decorated with two registers of design, which he had had to cut in half horizontally to lighten them before transporting them by raft down to and eventually to London. However, establishing their original arrangement did not begin for more than 80 years, until they were studied first by Cyril Gadd of the British Museum in the 1930s27 and then from the 1970s to 1990s by a number of other scholars, including Julian Reade, Janusz Meuszynski, Sam Paley and Richard Sobolewski28.

25 Ibid., pp. 29-30. 26 Ibid., p. 332. 27 C.J. Gadd, The Stones of Assyria. The Surviving Remains of Assyrian Sculpture, Their Recovery and Their Original Positions,L ondon 1936. 28 J.E. Reade, Narrative Composition in Assyrian Sculpture, The Architectural Context of Assyrian Sculpture, «Baghdader Mitteilungen», 10 (1979), pp. 52-110; Id., Space, Scale and Significance in Assyrian Art, «Baghdader Mitteilungen», 11 (1980), pp. 71-74; J. Meuszynski, Die Rekonstruktion der Reliefdarstellungen und ihrer Anordnung im Nordwestpalast von Kalhu (Nimrud), Mainz 1981 (Baghdader Forschungen 2); S.M. Paley Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories 101

Layard was similarly meticulous in recording the locations of the small antiquities he found. This was a practice which, unfortunately, was not followed by his successors in the nineteenth century, nor all too often in the twentieth century. He found an exceptionally important collection of ivories in Rooms V and W, which formed part of the King’s Suite in the residential wing of the North West Palace29.

The chamberV is remarkable for the discovery, near the entrance a, of a number of ivory ornaments of considerable beauty and interest. These ivories, when uncovered, adhered so firmly to the soil and were in so forward a state of decomposition that I had the greatest difficulty in extracting them, even in fragments. I spent hours lying on the ground, separating them, with a penknife, from the rubbish by which they were surrounded. Those who saw them when they first reached this country, will be aware of the difficulty of releasing them from the hardened mass in which they were embedded. The ivory separated itself in flakes. Even the falling away of the earth was sufficient to reduce it almost to powder30. Room V had originally been the king’s bathroom but had been converted to serve as the principal storeroom of the King’s Suite. Most of the ivories stored there had been dropped in the doorway between Rooms V and W, with a few fragments even in Room X, presumably scattered on their way out from the building during its sack in 614 or 612. His ivories consisted of sets of furniture panels, both complete and fragmentary, as well as statuettes. None of these had been carved in the easily recognizable Assyrian style: they were all booty, seized during the kings’ western campaigns. They include some important pieces, which illuminate the varied ‘traditions’ of ivory carving followed in different

- R.F. Sobolewski, The Reconstruction of the Relief Representations and Their Positions in the Northwest Palace at Kalhu (Nimrūd) II, Mainz 1987 (Baghdader Forschungen 10); Id., The Reconstruction of the Relief Representations and Their Positions in the Northwest Palace at Kalhu (Nimrūd) III, Mainz 1992 (Baghdader Forschungen 14). 29 G. Herrmann - S. Laidlaw, Ivories from Nimrud VI, Ivories from the North West Palace (1845-1992), London 2009, pp. 150-172, nos. 99-189. 30 Layard, Nineveh and its Remains, Vol. 2, p. 8. On their arrival in London, they were conserved by a Mr. Flower, who treated them with gelatine: R.D. Barnett, A Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories in the British Museum. Second Revised Edition, London 1975, p. 17. 102 Georgina Herrmann areas, as well as the working practices of the craftsmen. Of particular interest are two sets of a similar size, style and method of fixing, one showing young Pharaoh figures, the other the well-known motif of women at the window (Fig. 5)31. Layard considered that these sets «formed the paneling of a throne or chest»32, a suggestion followed by Richard Barnett, when he catalogued the Nimrud ivories in the British Museum33. They are important because they illustrate that a piece of furniture would have been decorated with a variety of designs and would have been carved by different craftsmen. Six panels show Pharaoh figures saluting lotus flowers. Three face to the right (I.N. VI, nos. 99-101) and three to the left (I.N. VI, nos. 102-104): they have close-fitting wigs, with residual uraei (cobras) at the front, necklaces, and wear short belted tunics with open overskirts. They grasp the stalks of plants with one hand and raise the other in salutation to a lotus flower (Fig. 6). The panels with figures facing right34 are almost identical: they share numerous details, such as their features, the form of their ears, the long fingers of their raised hands, the double ribbons that fall over their shoulders, the ‘tails’ that hang from their belts at the back, the decoration of their necklaces, the voluted belts and the narrow lotus flowers that they hold. Although the panels with figures facing left are recognizably similar, there are numerous minor differences35. Compare the carving of the faces and ears, the decoration of the necklaces, the absence of the double ribbon and tail down the back, the placing of the hands and the different length of fingers, the rather portly figures facing right, and the slimmer ones facing left, their garments and belts and finally the forms of the trees and lotus flowers. These variables suggest that different craftsmen carved the figures facing right to those facing left, a suggestion reinforced by some Aramaic letters, incised on the backs or tenons of panels.

31 Herrmann-Laidlaw, Ivories from Nimrud VI, pp. 150-157. 32 A.H. Layard, The Monuments of Nineveh: From Drawings Made on the Spot, London 1849, p. VI. 33 Barnett, A Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories in the British Museum, p. 171. 34 Herrmann-Laidlaw, Ivories from Nimrud VI, pp. 150-151, nos. 99-101. 35 Ibid., pp. 151-152, nos. 102-104. Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories 103

The purpose of these letters or ‘fitter’s marks’ is disputed. It has often been thought that they indicated the original position of panels, and, as Professor Alan Millard has proposed, they may indeed have been used as position markers36. However, in this case they appear to indicate the output of particular craftsmen. The Pharaoh figures facing right have a form of gimel incised on their backs, while those facing left have different marks on the fronts of their tenons. The same pattern occurs on panels with women at the window and some female heads. Three have gimel marks on their backs and can be compared stylistically to the gimel Pharaohs37. The marks seem therefore to be serving as a form of signature. This combination of differences of style together with the makers’ marks suggests that two different craftsmen were carving the panels, a suggestion that has been confirmed by studies made by the Italian scholar, Elena Scigliuzzo. Scigliuzzo undertook a detailed examination of Layard’s ivories, concentrating on the panels with Pharaoh figures and women at the window, because these are stylistically and technically similar, found together, fully recorded and available for study in the British Museum. Once again it is Layard’s superb recording, which is crucial. She also studied a small group of ivories found in the Nabu Temple at Khorsabad, which were iconographically similar and stylistically homogeneous38. The Khorsabad pieces consist of women at the window, winged women and sphinxes with heads turned frontally. Undertaking a precise study of the micro-variants of the carving of the heads of these panels, she was able to identify the work of nine different hands in the Room V and Khorsabad ivories. She called this style-group the «Wig and Wing» workshop. The threegimel pharaohs and two of the women at the window were carved by Hand 7, while the left-facing Pharaohs were worked by Hand 939. She further commented:

It therefore seems that two craftsmen divided the work equally and

36 A.R. Millard, Chapter Five, Fitters’ Marks, in Ivories from Nimrud IV, Ivories from Room SW37 Fort Shalmaneser, edited by G. Herrmann, London 1986, pp. 43-46. 37 Herrmann-Laidlaw, Ivories from Nimrud VI, pp. 153-155. 38 E. Scigliuzzo, The “Wig and Wing Workshop” of Iron Age Ivory Carving, «Ugarit Forschungen», 37 (2005), pp. 557-607. 39 Scigliuzzo, The “Wig and Wing Workshop”, pp. 572-575, 590. 104 Georgina Herrmann

it is interesting that this division was not by subject because each hand worked both two ladies at the window and also three plaques with male figures and flowers40.

Study of the ivories

In 1851, Layard left Nimrud, never to return, his health seriously damaged. Others succeeded him, principally his long-term assistant, Hormuzd Rassam, and William K. Loftus, who found an immense collection of heavily burnt ivories in what is now known as the Burnt Palace41. The first serious study of the Layard and Loftus ivories was made by F. Poulsen42, who considered that they could be arranged into three groupings, those in the easily recognizable Assyrian style, Phoenician ivories, that is those with links to the art of Egypt, and North Syrian ivories, many of which had been found by Loftus and could be compared to sculptures found along the Syro-Turkish border. In the 1930s Richard Barnett wrote a series of articles, while preparing his magisterial Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories in the British Museum (1957 and 1975). In the 1970s Irene Winter suggested that there should be an additional South Syrian group, one with links to both Phoenician and North Syrian ivories, now known as Syro-Phoenician43. These combine «traditional Phoenician iconography in squat “un- Phoenician” proportions»44 and are easy to identify, thanks to their squatter proportions and their misunderstanding or corruption of Egyptian motifs. The range of subjects depicted is relatively limited, and it is noteworthy that all are versions of Phoenician originals. «Wig

40 Ibid., p. 574. 41 Barnett, A Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories in the British Museum, p. 23. 42 F. Poulsen, Der Orient und die Fruehgriechische Kunst, Leipzig 1912 (reprinted Rome 1968). 43 I.J. Winter, North Syria in the Early First Millennium B.C., With Special Reference to Ivory Carving, Ph.D. thesis, New York 1973. 44 I.J. Winter, Is There a South Syrian Style of Ivory Carving in the Early First Millennium B.C.?, «Iraq», 43 (1981), pp. 101-130, reprinted in Ead., On Art in the Ancient Near East, I, Of the First Millennium B.C.E., Leiden-Boston 2010 (Culture and History of the Ancient Near East, 34.1), p. 285. Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories 105 and Wing» ivories form the finest and largest group attributed to this tradition45. Many scholars have contributed to the study of the ivories and are continuing to do so. However, until recently their work was, necessarily, based on a relatively small sample, those found in the nineteenth century, as well as a limited selection of the thousands found by during his major expedition to Nimrud (1949-1963)46. Mallowan was deliberately walking in the footsteps of Layard and actively trying to find ivories. Beginning work on the acropolis, he succeeded in locating Room V and was thrilled to find the last example of the set of cows and calves, found by Layard a century earlier47. He found his finest ivories in the wells of the North West Palace, although even finer examples were found in 1975 by the Iraqi Department of Antiquities and Heritage in Well AJ48. However, the majority of the ivories found by the Expedition were recovered from the storerooms of Fort Shalmaneser. This was booty gathered by the Assyrians from the areas and cities they had conquered: they were so efficient at collecting booty that few ivories have been found elsewhere. They do not seem to have used the furniture and small finds they collected. Instead the ivories were stripped of their valuable gold overlays and stored, especially in two large magazines, Rooms SW37 and SW11/12. The publication of this vast assemblage of material has taken a long time. Seven volumes in the Ivories from Nimrud series have appeared (I.N. I-VII, 1967-2013) and another is planned. However, even when this basic cataloguing has been completed, not all the ivories will have been recorded, because of problems of time and access. Nevertheless, it is now possible to begin to establish the broad outlines of the collection as a whole, and to see what general conclusions can be drawn about this remarkable body of material, which forms a record of the minor arts of the Levant in the early first millennium B.C. The ivories were gathered into sets of similar pieces and then into larger, looser style-groups, which

45 G. Herrmann - S. Laidlaw, Ivories from Nimrud VII, Ivories from Rooms SW11/12 and T10 Fort Shalmaneser, London 2013, pp. 80-85. 46 M.E.L. Mallowan, Nimrud and Its Remains, London 1966. 47 Herrmann-Laidlaw, Ivories from Nimrud VI, p. 157, no. 123, ND 362. 48 Ibid., pp. 179-208, nos. 223-298. 106 Georgina Herrmann could be allotted to one of the four ‘traditions’, the Assyrian, North Syrian, Syro-Phoenician and Phoenician. The initial analysis undertaken in Ivories from Nimrud VI and VII revealed that the numbers assigned to the four traditions and their distribution within Nimrud varied markedly. For instance, relatively few Assyrian style ivories were found, and these tended to cluster in elite Assyrian areas, such as throne rooms. On the other hand there was a marked absence of Assyrian pieces among the booty found in the storerooms with their huge assemblages of looted and broken ivories. Of these the majority could be assigned to the Phoenician tradition. There were more Phoenician ivories than all the others put together. Perhaps this is not surprising, in view of their reputation as superb craftsmen. Once again, it was Layard who found the first examples of Phoenician ivories, some of which had fallen in the doorway between Rooms V and W. Perhaps the finest and the best known is BM 118120 (Fig. 7)49. This depicts a pair of deities seated either side of a central cartouche surmounted by a solar disc and atef feathers. The design is obviously heavily indebted to Egyptian traditions, iconography and technique. The work is exceptionally fine with the figures partially covered in gold foil and highlighted with coloured inlays. Another Egyptianizing fragment found by Layard shows the infant Horus seated on a lotus between a pair of winged deities, BM 118180 (Fig. 8)50, while BM 118157 belongs to a different Phoenician style group, the Ornate Group51. A pair of griffins stands back to back within the outward curving branches of a ‘tree’ (Fig. 9). Delicate inlay work is typical of the finest Phoenician ivories and is principally confined to Egyptianizing and Ornate Group ivories. Thanks to his early tuition in Florence, Layard had an exceptionally acute eye, and he recognized that the «forms, and style of art, have a purely Egyptian character; although there are certain peculiarities in the execution, and mode of treatment, that would seem to mark the work of a foreign, perhaps an Assyrian, artist»52. And as early as 1856

49 Ibid., pp. 161-162 no. 146. 50 Ibid., p. 165, no. 157. 51 Ibid., p. 165-166 no. 158. 52 Layard, Nineveh and its Remains, Vol. 2, p. 10. Austen Henry Layard, Nimrud and His Ivories 107

Francis Lenormant noted that his father, Charles, considered that these ‘Egyptianizing’ ivories were not Egyptian but were probably carved by Phoenician craftsmen53. Egyptianizing ivories form a particularly coherent and distinctive group, of which about a hundred examples have been found at Nimrud, especially in Fort Shalmaneser54. They are unusual among the ivories from Nimrud in that they were not worked in sets of matching panels but were unusually unique, with the occasional pair. They must have been used in a different way. There are a number of style-groups among the numerous ivories assigned to the Phoenician tradition, which currently number well over a thousand examples. Phoenician ivories are among the most attractive pieces found at Nimrud. Phoenician craftsmen borrowed Egyptian motifs and designs but did not slavishly copy them, adapting them to serve their own purposes and meanings. They are unified by a strong sense of elegance, balance and symmetry. The range of subjects is limited, consisting of Egyptianizing scenes, like those found by Layard, or slender figures harmoniously disposed in the available space. There is a marked absence of any sort of narrative, despite the strong tradition in Egypt. The finest are often gilded and inlaid and have a jeweled appearance. Most of the ivories found at Nimrud were found far from their places of production, and there is little evidence to suggest their probable date of manufacture. Their presence in the doorway between Rooms V and W suggests that they were being moved and dropped, presumably when the Palace was sacked in 614-612, so the ivories must predate that date. Equally Layard’s Room V originally served as a bathroom in the King’s residential suite before being converted into a storeroom, possibly during the reign of Sargon. The presence of similar ivories in the Nabu Temple at Khorsabad, founded by Sargon II, may reinforce this hypothesis. But while that may define their time of deposition, it does not suggest their date of manufacture, which would have been considerably earlier, probably from the late tenth to the early eighth centuries.

53 Barnett, A Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories in the British Museum, p. 31, note 2. 54 Herrmann-Laidlaw, Ivories from Nimrud VII, pp. 27-30 and 51 for a list. 108 Georgina Herrmann

Layard’s publications

His publications were another of Layard’s many outstanding achievements. His first general account of his first season (1845-1847), Nineveh and its Remains, appeared as early as 1849. His second season ran from 1849 to May 1851, and his first detailed publication followed in 1852. This was supplemented by more popular versions, such as his 1854 book: this was one of Murray’s successful series Reading for the Rail: A Popular Account of Discoveries at Nineveh (1854), copies of which were widely available in libraries at the time (Fig. 10). He wrote brilliantly and his books included accounts of his many adventures as well as his discoveries. They remain an indispensable record of what he achieved as well as being as entertaining a read today as when they first appeared. Layard’s achievements were essentially unbelievable. They were well summarized by the late Richard Barnett:

Layard as an excavator was little less than a prodigy. It is true, he was fortunate in possessing initial assets; a high courage and determination, rare powers of observation and description, a powerful physical constitution, a sympathetic knowledge of Oriental languages, ways and peoples, and a remarkable skill in draughtsmanship […] Untrained, without predecessors except Botta, without guidance other than his native ability, young and usually single-handed, in a wild and unhealthy country, Layard achieved more than any other man has ever since done in the same field, and set a standard of scientific efficiency which was almost always serviceable, compared with which the work at Nimrud and elsewhere of those on whom his mantle fell showed for many decades only a sad degeneration55.

55 Barnett, A Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories in the British Museum, p. 18. Fig. 1 - Amadeo Preziosi, Watercolour drawing of Austen Henry Layard, 1843. British Museum, inv. No. PD 1076-9-25,9. Fig. 2 - Layard supervising the lowering the great winged bull prior to its transport to the Tigris and thence to London. from Layard, Nineveh and its Remains, Vol. 1, Frontispiece.

109 Fig. 3 - Arguably one of Layard’s most important discoveries, the Black Obelisk: a detail recording some campaigns of Shalmaneser III, who is receiving the submission of the king of Gilzanu and of Jehu of Israel. British Museum, inv. no. 118885. Fig. 4 - Plan of North West Palace, as excavated by Layard in 1845, showing his recording of the position of the slabs, from Layard, Nineveh and its Remains, Vol. I, Plan III. 110 Fig. 5 a, b - Two Syro-Phoenician panels from Room V: BM 118148 (left), one of a set of six, showing Pharaoh figures saluting lotus flowers; b. the other, BM 118159 (right), of which four survive, depicts a ‘woman at the window’. They probably formed parts of the same piece of furniture, are stylistically similar and share the same Aramaic letters or ‘fitter’s marks’, a gimel, on their backs.

Fig. 6 a, b - Two Syro-Phoenician panels with Pharaoh figures from Room ,V one facing to the right, BM 118152, and one to the left, BM 118147. Comparison of minor details, as well as the fitter’s marks, placed differently, suggests that they were carved by different hands. 111 Fig. 7 - A superb Egyptianizing panel, BM 118120, showing a pair of deities seated either side of a central cartouche found by Layard in the doorway between Rooms V and W. Fig. 8 - A fine Egyptianizing fragment, BM 118180, with the infant Horus seated on a lotus between winged deities. 112 Fig. 9 - BM 118157, one of the unusually shaped panels belonging to the Ornate Group with a pair of griffins, back to back, within the arching branches of a stylized tree. 113 Fig. 10 - The cover of Layard’s popular book, Layard’s Nineveh, a nineteenth century version of a Penguin paperback. 114 Stefania Ermidoro*

A Family Treasure: The Layard Collection at Newcastle University

Abstract This paper provides a description of the Layard Archive, currently kept in the Philip Robinson Library at Newcastle University. The archive, previously unknown, was deposited in October 2016 by a donor from Layard’s extended family; it consists of a variety of materials, including private family correspondence, bundles of published materials and newspaper cuttings, family and biographical information, sketches, proofs and Layard’s passport. This repository will be analysed and discussed in relation to its connections with other known Layard archives kept in other British institutions, in order to provide its first full assessment.

The life of Austen Henry Layard (1817-1894) spans almost the entire Victorian era (1837-1901), and his multifaceted activity as a traveller, archaeologist, reporter of Middle Eastern adventures, politician, diplomat, writer, art critic, entrepreneur and scholar makes him a true protagonist of the age of Queen Victoria. Among his qualities, there is one that never failed him throughout his rich life: he was a truly prolific writer, who never ceased to keep bibliographical notes and diaries, to maintain epistolary contacts with members of his family, friends and colleagues, and to draft official reports on his tasks

* My project, Unfolding a Victorian Archive. The Layard Collection at Newcastle University, was funded by a British Academy Visiting Fellowship awarded in 2018. I am grateful to Mark Jackson (School of History, Classics and Archaeology, Newcastle University), Ian Johnson (Head of Special Collections, Newcastle University) and Geraldine Hunwick (Special Collections, Newcastle University) for their help during my stay at Newcastle. My work on this archive falls within the activities fostered by the Gruppo di Ricerca Interdisciplinare di Storia degli Studi Orientali (GRISSO), directed by Silvia Alaura at the CNR, Rome. 116 Stefania Ermidoro and duties. As a result, today, thousands of papers written by or to him are known: the largest collection of them is kept in the British Library in London, under the name Layard Papers, but many other repositories across Europe include archival documents related to him1. The latest acquisition among this large amount of materials is the Layard Archive, deposited in the Philip Robinson Library at Newcastle University in October 2016. The donor was a member of Layard’s extended family, or more precisely the Du Cane family: the collection originated from Layard’s niece, Julia Du Cane, who was the daughter of Charlotte Maria Du Cane (née Guest), i.e., the sister of Layard’s wife, Enid Guest. Indeed, the archive in Newcastle originally belonged to Charlotte Maria Guest and her husband Richard Du Cane. Maria and Enid were daughters of Lady Charlotte Elizabeth Guest, Henry Layard’s cousin, who, during their childhood, often met Layard and heard him talking about his excavations in Assyria; they also visited the British Museum to hear about the marvellous Ninevite discoveries in Layard’s own voice2. Layard became a regular at the family residence, Canford Manor, where he also helped Lady Charlotte to design and build the so-called ‘Nineveh Porch’, an Assyrian-themed pavilion to house her large private collection, including original marbles from Nineveh. When in London, the Guests and Layard met on a daily basis, and he also took their children to see the Panorama of Nimroud by Robert Burford, which opened in December 1851 and ran for 18 months3.

1 For a list of repositories including some Layard-related materials available from the British National Archives website, see (last accessed: 31/07/2019). 2 cf. for example: «When service was over we started a large party to walk […] The children clustered round Henry Layard and got him to tell them stories about the East», cited in J.M. Russell, From Nineveh to New York. The Strange Story of the Assyrian Reliefs in the Metropolitan Museum and the Hidden Masterpiece at , with contributions from J. McKenzie - S. Dalley, New Haven - London, p. 44. 3 M.T. Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria: Excavations in an Antique Land, London - New York 1996, pp. 90-91 with fn. 67, p. 218. Following the clamour having arisen from Layard’s discoveries in the East, Thomas Burford opened his Panorama of Nimroud in Leicester Square in London, while Layard’s former artist Frederick C. Cooper displayed his Diorama of Nineveh at the Gothic Hall in Oxford Street. On these artistic representations, A Family Treasure: The Layard Collection 117

At the moment of their accession to the Philip Robinson Library, the very existence of these materials was unknown to scholars: all the items included in the archive had neither been published, nor ever received a systematic investigation. An accurate study of its content, however, has confirmed how this repository holds considerable historical value, since it contains evidence of Layard’s eclectic life through the unique perspective of his own family4. In contrast to all the other known archives, this collection escaped the careful selection operated by Layard himself as well as by his wife Enid, who sorted the documents to bequeath to the British Museum with great care (a second level of selection was then overseen by the Trustees of the British Museum)5. In contrast, the materials from the Newcastle Layard Archive come from a private context, and for this reason they may be considered as more ‘genuine’. In the following pages, a complete survey of the materials included in this archive will be provided, with a short description of each item or group of items. I will discuss these materials in light of other known and published archives, while also discussing Layard’s legacy in relation to later members of his own family.

The photo album

This consists of a very large album, with Layard’s initials and the motto «Perseverando» impressed on its green leather cover6 (Figs. 1 a, see F.N. Bohrer, Orientalism and Visual Culture. Imagining Mesopotamia in Nineteenth- Century Europe, Cambridge 2003, pp. 182-184. 4 a short description of the archive’s content is available at (last accessed: 31/07/2019). For a study of the archaeology-related materials in this repository, see S. Ermidoro, The Latest Layard Archive: New Documents from Newcastle University, «Iraq», 81 (2019), pp. 127-144. 5 cf. the interesting dossier of documents exchanged between the British Museum and Layard’s family on the subject of the selection of papers to be kept under the Trustees’ authority, held at the John Murray Archive, National Library of Scotland, MS. 42417. 6 «Perseverando» was the motto of the Layard family in England: it also appears in the letterhead sometimes used by Enid for the handwritten letters kept in this same archive (see below). 118 Stefania Ermidoro b). Although it has not been possible to identify all the individuals and places appearing in the photographs, what has been discovered so far makes this album a highly interesting piece7. Some of its photographs show Highcliffe Castle in Dorset, followed by Eastnor Castle in Herefordshire8. The owners of this building, Charles Somers Somers-Cocks (Viscount Eastnor, Third Earl Somers) and his wife Virginia (née Pattle), were Layard’s good friends – as attested by Layard’s own recount in his autobiography and by Lady Layard in her Journal9. Such friendship was sealed by the exchange of gifts: in this respect, it is interesting to highlight that, in 1998, two marble reliefs certainly donated by Layard were found in the cellar of Eastnor Castle. One letter accompanying the gift, addressed to Viscount Eastnor and dated 6 April 1847, is reported to have been found together with the reliefs10. So far, no manuscript has been identified that might help in clarifying when and exactly where the photo sessions took place, or when this album came into Layard’s hands. However, it is remarkable to note that not only was Viscount Eastnor an amateur photographer himself11, but Lady Eastnor’s sister, Julia Margaret Cameron, was a famous pioneer of Victorian photography: many details, including the style and individuals depicted in these photographs, strongly suggest

7 The album will be the subject of a specific in-depth study in a future co-authored publication. 8 i am grateful to Cecilia Riva, who identified Eastnor Castle from these photographs and kindly shared this information with me. 9 in her Journal, Enid mentions two sojourns at Eastnor Castle (in 1873 and 1876), as well as many more encounters across Europe over several years, during which the two couples, the Layards and the Somers, paid visits to each other. The connection between the families, however, dated back long before his marriage to Enid: see Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, pp. 93-94. An unedited transcript of the whole of Enid’s Journal is available online at the website (last accessed: 31/07/2019). 10 The news has been reported in British newspapers, but the reliefs were never described or discussed in academic publications. Cf. V. Thorpe, If You Go Down to the Cellar Today…, «TheI ndependent», 23 August 1998; R.J. Head, Field Notes. Assyrian Reliefs Found Again, «Archaeology Odyssey», 2 (1999), p. 10. 11 Cf. V. Olsen, From Life. Julia Margaret Cameron & Victorian Photography, London 2003, pp. 73, 97. A Family Treasure: The Layard Collection 119 that Cameron was their photographer12. In many instances, she cooperated with Somers and may have been depicted in some of the photos herself: this is a typical feature of her early work, dated to the mid- to late-1850s13. One further hint of Cameron’s auteurship can be found in the typewritten Catalogue of the Library Formed by Sir Henry Layard G.C.B. at 3 Savile Row, London which was drafted by Enid Layard after Henry’s death in 190414. In this volume, one can find Cameron’s Leonora: A Poem (London 1847) listed on page 30, with the indication «Presentation copy»15. Directly under this typed item is one addition, written in pencil in Enid’s handwriting: «Photographic Album Large», which was kept by Henry «in the Cabinet in the Studio»: this must be the same album in the Layard Archive in Newcastle, which was thought to be lost until today.

The red folder

The second set of particularly interesting documents is collected in a large red folder: for the most part, these consists of Layard’s proofs

12 Cameron’s relationship with Layard had indeed ancient roots: their friendship dated back to the 1850s, when she and her family were neighbours of the family of Lady Charlotte (i.e., Enid’s mother). She and Layard were regular visitors to the so-called «Little Holland House salon», conducted by Mrs Cameron’s sister, Sara Prinsep (C. Dakers, The Holland Park Circle. Artists and Victorian Society, New Haven - London 1999, pp. 18-40, esp. p. 27); I am grateful to Joanne Lukitsh for this information. Although this photo album should be dated to the early years of Mrs Cameron’s activity, the friendship between them continued for several years, and the photographer also made two famous portraits of Layard and Enid in 1869. Cf. J. Cox - C. Ford, with contributions from J. Lukitsh - P. Wright, Julia Margaret Cameron. The Complete Photographs, London 2003, p. 228 no. 343, p. 330 no. 700. See also Enid’s Journal, for the period 29-31 March 1869 (where she mentions her going to Cameron «to be photodsic»). 13 cf. J. Lukitsh, Before 1864: Julia Margaret Cameron’s Early Work in Photography, in J. Cox - C. Ford, Julia Margaret Cameron. The Complete Photographs, pp. 95-105 and ibid., pp. 502-505. 14 British Library, General Reference Collection 2725, p.1. 15 cameron published a translation of Gottfried August Bürger’s ballad Leonore in 1847, with illustrations by Daniel Maclise. 120 Stefania Ermidoro for the first and the second series of his Monuments of Nineveh (Fig. 2). These folios add to our knowledge on the selection and printing processes of the images chosen for Layard’s publications16. The folios in this folder include the very first cover drawn for the volume, in which the winged bull was represented in reverse when compared with the final published version. There are also pages with the text corrected by Layard himself (in both editions; Fig. 3) and a large collection of images for the tables, some of which appear three or even four times, with minor differences. The most interesting material, however, consists of many scattered papers with drawings of landscapes, monuments and people made by Layard himself during his travels in the East (Fig. 4 a, b), a few watercolours, sketches of Assyrian palaces with measurements and notes, and copies of Greek and cuneiform inscriptions17. The careful and detailed sketches of Assyrian palaces, which included measurements and comments taken directly in the field, may also provide new insights into archaeological matters and contribute to a better contextualization of Layard’s discoveries18. Surprisingly, within this varied dossier, which is mostly composed of archaeological material, there is one photograph, which is rare in that it represents both Layards together (Fig. 5). It is a bucolic scene, which shows five people having a picnic on the grass. It is also an unusual family photograph: Henry and Enid Layard appear together with their two nieces (Ola and Nela) and their friend Herbert Thompson. This shot was taken at the Lido in Venice and is dated May 1892, the photographer being Sir Henry Thompson19.

16 on Layard’s relationship with the artists who accompanied him on the excavations, cf. Curtis in this volume. 17 These materials are discussed in detail in Ermidoro, The Latest Layard Archive, pp. 133-138. On Layard’s own drawing skills, cf. Herrmann in this volume, in relation to the ivories. 18 Ermidoro, The Latest Layard Archive, pp. 134-135. 19 cf. Enid’s Journal, 9 May 1892. Sir Henry Thompson, mostly known for his work as a surgeon but with many other interests as a typical Victorian polymath, visited the Layards together with his only son Herbert (educated as a barrister, but later to become a lecturer in Egyptology) for a long period in spring 1892 and took several photographs of the couple in Venice and inside their residence at Ca’ Cappello. Cf. S. Ermidoro, Layard A Family Treasure: The Layard Collection 121

Richard Du Cane’s blue writing box

The third set of documents is preserved in a writing box originally owned by Richard Du Cane, husband of Enid Layard’s older sister. It is an archive that the family chose to separate from the other documents in order to maintain its pristine state. Inside this writing box is a unique collection of various materials. For example, someone in the Du Cane family kept dozens of Italian, English, French and German newspaper cuttings, appropriately arranged and bundled, with which it is possible to reconstruct, on an almost daily basis, the sequence of events related to the much-discussed bequest and the property transfer of Layard’s remarkable collection of Italian paintings to the in London after Enid’s death20. The writing box also includes Layard’s passport, with stamps attesting his travels from 9 September 1859 to 3 August 1861. There are only two other known passports of Layard in British repositories: one was issued for Layard’s first travels to the East in 1839 and is currently kept in the John Murray Archive at the National Library of Scotland (Edinburgh)21. The second passport (indeed, its first page without any stamp), valid for both Layards and their niece, Olivia Du Cane, is dated 1892 and held today amongst the Gordon Waterfield Collection at the Middle East Centre Archive of St. Antony’s College (Oxford)22. Among the other items, there is some family information as well as genealogical trees, Lady Layard’s funeral service programme, a pamphlet in Venice: A Rare Photo Album, «The British Museum. Newsletter Middle East», 4 (2019), pp. 24-25. 20 on Layard’s collection of paintings, see C. Riva, La collezione Layard nel catalogo dattiloscritto 1896, «Predella. Journal of Visual Arts», 35 (2014), pp. 53-78; Ead., “Un velenoso pasticcio” made in Italy. Il caso della donazione Layard, in Donare allo Stato, edited by L. Casini - E. Pellegrini, Bologna 2016, pp. 165-173. Cf. also I. Favaretto, La collezione Layard: storia, formazione e vicende, in Austen Henry Layard tra l’Oriente e Venezia, Symposium Internazionale, Venezia 26-28 ottobre 1983, edited by F.M. Fales - B.J. Hickey, Rome 1987, pp. 227-236, esp. p. 232. 21 John Murray Archive, National Library of Scotland, MS.42345: this document has been digitized and is available from the webpage (last accessed: 31/07/2019). 22 Gordon Waterfield Collection, Middle East Centre Archive, GB165-0295, Waterfield, Box 4, file 2. 122 Stefania Ermidoro entitled Order of Service for the Dedication of the Memorial Window to Enid, Wife of Sir Austen Henry Layard, and some images of the project for that exact window, which was realized in the Anglican Church of St. George in Venice. There are also drawings of the Star of the Order of Charity (which was created by the Sultan of Constantinople for Enid as a sign of gratitude for the assistance she gave to refugees and wounded soldiers)23, some photographs of Enid in her late age at Ca’ Cappello (Fig. 6), and more drawings of Assyrian decorations made by Layard. Finally, the writing box contains a few objects such as a pin badge from the Huguenot Society, of which Layard was president24, a letter opener with its presentation box signed by Princess Victoria, and an interesting fragment of pottery donated to Layard by Rassam in 187825. Originally, the box also contained family letters, which have now been separated and archived as a separate dossier.

Family letters

The correspondence in the Newcastle University archive is especially interesting: it consists of about 180 letters from Enid and 10 letters written by Layard, all addressed to Maria. The earliest of these missives date to the couple’s engagement (January 1869) and the correspondence continues intermittently until January 1884. The peculiarity of this archive consists of its opening up an unprecedent view on the Layards’ intimate feelings, as can be seen from the very first documents:

23 on the Star of the Order of Charity, which Enid received from the Sultan himself during an official dinner party, cf. J. Rudoe, Lady Layard’s Jewellery and the “Assyrian Style” in Nineteenth-Century Jewellery Design, in Fales-Hickey, eds., Austen Henry Layard, pp. 213-226, esp. pp. 219-220, with pls. 11-12. 24 See, for example, the manuscript kept at the British Library, Add MS 39050, which is entitled «Layard Papers. Vol. CXX (ff. 328). Original MSS. of contributions by Sir A. H. Layard, as first President (1885-1894), to the Proceedings and Publications of the Huguenot Society of London, 1887-1893». 25 This sherd is presented in detail in Ermidoro, The Latest Layard Archive, pp. 140- 141. A Family Treasure: The Layard Collection 123

Sunday 10th Jan. 1869 My dearest Maria, […] I write now to tell you what I dare say will not very much astonish you after our talks at Canford. Henry Layard has proposed to me & I have accepted him. I hope you will be glad and like it & especially not think me deceitful after what I said about it when you told me what true he said for really tho’ it had passed vaguely thro’ my mind often, it was really that talk with you that seemed to give things a definite form. I am so fond of you that I should be dreadfully sorry if I thought you fancied I wished to deceive you or tell you an untruth. I shall be very anxious to hear from you dearest Maria if you will write to me to Langham House. […] It happened on Thursday afternoon & Henry saw the M.[other] yesterday & I only got the answer this morning. Give my love to Richard & say I ask his blessing & excuse this short note. From Y.[our] loving sister M. Enid Guest26 Layard sent a letter two days later, expressing his gratitude for Maria’s approval, praising Enid’s qualities and declaring that «it will be the study of my life to make her happy»27 (Fig. 7). Enid’s letters to her sister are numerous and address all sorts of topics: frivolous and daily ones, such as fashion, gardening, high society as well as family gossip and house management, are tightly and quite astonishingly intertwined with descriptions of Layard’s activities as ambassador in Madrid (1869-1877) and Constantinople (1877- 1880). Overall, Enid’s correspondence attest to the high-society members who were guests of the Layards in their residences in Madrid, Venice, Constantinople and Therapia. Politics, although not the main topic, is nevertheless omnipresent and these letters show Enid’s direct involvement in his husband’s activities: she copied and wrote dispatches that were too private to be read by anyone else, arranged meetings with politicians and nobles, and even took an active part in revolutionary

26 layard Archive, Newcastle University Library, lay/1/1/1/1. 27 layard Archive, Newcastle University Library, lay/1/1/2/1. 124 Stefania Ermidoro acts, for example, by contributing to Francisco Serrano’s escape from Spain during the Third Carlist war in 187328. One letter, Enid’s first missive sent to Maria from Constantinople, provides a good example of the lively accounts that can be found in this archive, in which politics, ethnographical annotations, curiosities and gossiping are inextricably entangled:

Constantinople 27th Ap. 1877 Dearest Maria, Today’s mail brought your letter which I hailed with delight. I wanted to write to you before but I have not yet quite made out the mail days & I have also been very unwell since my arrival. […] We did not have such a pleasant journey from Brindisi here as we hoped. […] The weather was dull & cloudy but luckily just as we reared Constantinople the sun came out & the scene was indescribably beautiful. It was like a fairy scene & took one quite by surprise. Everything looked so strange & wonderful. The members of the Embassy came on board to receive Henry & he landed in full uniform with troupssic drawn up to salute him. We drove up in procession in open carriages preceded by the mounted servants of the Embassy called “cavass”. The drive up to this quarter of the town (Pera) was a long one & we passed thro’ wonderful streets with irregular wooden houses of all shapes & colours & saw people in every kind of costume. It appears that the Turkish women are beginning to take to European garments but when they go out in the streets they are obliged wear their veils & outer garments & these they put on over the other clothes. Some were in bright green, some bright canary coloured draping gowns. On Wed y Tues Henry had his audience of the Sultan & they made a grand procession thro’ the town & the streets were lined with people to see him pass. I hear that it made a great impression & produced a feeling of security & that the funds immediately went up. People said “This ambassador is come to save us”. It was a curious coincidence that the Russian Embassy took up its

28 Cf. the accurate and fascinating account given by Enid in her letter to Maria written from Santander and dated 2 May 1873 (Layard Archive, Newcastle University Library, lay 1/1/1/38). A Family Treasure: The Layard Collection 125 departure the day before & the Turks thought England waited for the Russians to go out before we came in. While Henry was with the Sultan the ministers received the declaration of War & I think every body is rather relieved at getting it – it threatened so long that the suspense was very trying. Henry was immensely taken by the Sultan. He says he seemed very accomplished clever & good – & there is something very attractive about him – but he seemed low at the state of affairs. He was especially kind to Henry. Every body, both English & Turks, has received Henry well & I hope he may be able to fulfil some of their expectations – but as they seem to expect so much of him it will make it all tremendously busy. He begins work at 8 A.M. & I never see him all day except a moment at meals which he has to hurry thro’. When all the official visits have been received & paid perhaps he will not be quite so busy but sometimes 10 or 12 telegrams come in of an evening & the chancery is rarely closed before midnight – & is open again at 7 in the mon.g On Wed.y afternoon I had a reception for the English here and you can imagine what a bewildering thing it was seeing so many new faces in so short a space of time. Luckily I had one of our secretary’s wife M.rs Baring to help me & she knew every one. Last night I received all the corps diplomatique. There were only ½ day ladies as the heads of the Missions are all away but there were abt. 30 or 40 men whom I am afraid I should hardly know again. It is all so confusing at first. We had people to dinner first last night hw made rather a long evening & I happened to be feeling so ill I could hardly hold my head up & could not touch my dinner. However luckily that passed off before the end of dinner. […] There is a charming garden here but not well kept altho’ there is an English gardener – but it will be an amusement to me to look after it if we settle down here. The garden will be a great resource as the streets are so rough & dirty that it is horrible walking in them. Ladies go in sedan chars wh. one finds for hire at the corner of every street. It looks so strange but even men are obliged to use them in dirty weather if they wish to arrive at a house, on a visit for example, without mud up to their knees. I have not yet been in one but I fancy the movement must make me rather uncomfortable at first. I went out yesterday for the first time to pay some visits. […] We passed by the Sultans town 126 Stefania Ermidoro

residence which is the most picturesque strange thing you ever saw – & with all its gates ornaments & decoration profusely it is like what one sees in the illustrations of the Arabian nights. One nice thing about the Turks is their love of flowers. Every house has some, however tiny, bit of ground planted with flowers. Even the court yards of the barracks are kept bright with flowers by the soldiers for their own pleasure – & of course the climate helps them. Since our arrival we have had chilly changeable dull weather but they say it seldom lasts here. I have not yet been to the Bazaars but that is at Stamboul which is a quarter a good way off & this town is enormous. The houses are scattered about with gardens & the streets very irregular. There are plenty of European shops but they say things are frightfully dear – When I have seen more I will write to you again. For now adieu. Yr. loving sister Enid Layard29. TheV enetian life of the couple is also well described in these letters, beginning with the wearying and occasionally quite funny account of when the Layards moved into their residence at Ca’ Cappello30 (Fig. 8). The correspondence even provides hints at the dispersal of Layard’s archaeological collection, both during his life and by the subsequent generation31. To conclude the description of the epistolary section of this archive, it must be noted that this also includes 23 letters written by Enid’s mother, niece (Alice Du Cane, i.e., Maria’s daughter) and later members of the family. These letters cover a variety of topics: the visits of Alice and Lady Charlotte to the Layards in Constantinople, family news, social events and Layard’s estate.

Henry Layard’s library

The Layard Archive in Newcastle also holds 12 volumes of Layard’s

29 layard Archive, Newcastle University Library, lay/1/1/1/104. A newspaper cutting with the report of Layard’s arrival at Constantinople is also attached to this letter. On Layard’s activities as Ambassador to Constantinople cf. also Alaura in this volume (with fig. 2). 30 lay 1/1/1/64; Lay/1/1/1/131. 31 Cf. Ermidoro, The Latest Layard Archive, p. 129. A Family Treasure: The Layard Collection 127 personal library, which was originally kept in his London house at 3 Savile Road32: these were likely bequeathed to later members of the Du Cane family by Enid. I will not describe these items in detail, as an account of the volumes kept in Newcastle is available elsewhere33. I will simply highlight that, besides the volumes on various topics which were part of Layard’s private library, today’s collection also includes all the first editions of Layard’s publications, which he donated as presentation copies to members of the Du Cane family, as well as 14 more volumes which were published after Layard’s death, collected by the Du Canes. These are mostly excavation reports from British sites, thus attesting to the continuity of interest in archaeology within the family: in particular, there are all the publications by Heywood Sumner, including his two volumes on ancient earthworks (The Ancient Earthworks of Cranborne Chase, London 1913; The Ancient Earthworks of the New Forest, London 1917), his Stonehenge. Today & Yesterday (revised edition, London 1929), and the publications on the excavations at Rockbourne Down in Hampshire (London 1914) and at East Grimstead in Wiltshire (London 1924). What is also remarkable is the presence of all the joint publications by Florence and Enid Du Cane (The Italian Lakes, London 1905; The Flowers and Gardens of Japan, London 1908; The Canary Islands, London 1911; The Banks of the Nile, London 1913). Another interesting item is the Bible given to Layard by his mother before he left Britain to travel to the East in 1839, with a dedication written by her on the first page. This was recorded in the archive as «Layard’s Bible used during his travels in the East»: indeed, such an item reveals the connection he made between the findings from the East and the Scriptures. In his publications, Layard often drew similarities between the reliefs from Assyrian palaces and the descriptions contained in Book of Ezekiel in the Old Testament, so much so that he quoted Ezekiel 23:14-15 in the title page of Nineveh and Its Remains34. The

32 see the above-mentioned typewritten Catalogue, dated 1904. 33 Cf. Ermidoro, The Latest Layard Archive, pp. 138-140. 34 in a letter to his mother from Nimrud, dated 21 April 1846, Layard wrote: «Ezekiel […] appears continually to have had the sculptures of the Assyrian or Chaldeans in his eye when he made his prophesies. I am much inclined to suspect that the figures of his vision are suggested to some measure by them. And that various passages in the 23 Chap: (14&15) 128 Stefania Ermidoro

Bible kept at the Robinson Library has a bookmark, possibly placed there by Layard himself between the pages that precisely report those verses: this seems to confirm that Layard connected this extract from the Bible with his discoveries in Assyria from the very beginning. Bearing his Bible with him, he could read the Book of Ezekiel while standing in front of the reliefs, making a sign at the words that struck him. There are also other marks and notations in the Bible, which were certainly written by Layard, in the Book of Genesis.

Framed items: Enid’s portrait and the map

The last items from the Layard Archive in Newcastle consist of two framed objects. The first one is a map of the ancient sites in the New Forest, which can be linked to the volumes written by Heywood Seymore, collected by later members of the Du Cane family in the same repository35. The second consists of a portrait of Enid made by the famous Austrian painter Ludwig Johann Passini in 1896. Through Enid’s Journal, it is possible to reconstruct the genesis of this painting in its entirety: in May 1892, Passini asked Enid to sit for a portrait, after having painted perhaps the most famous image of Layard sitting in his studio in Venice36. However, not being satisfied with the result, after less than a month, he decided to leave it unfinished37. In December of the same year, Passini decided to make a new attempt, finishing the portrait in the following January (adding some final touches in May 1893)38. In April 1896, when Passini and Enid came to the conclusion that the are exact descriptions of the bas reliefs of Nimroud»; cf. British Library, Layard Papers, Add MS 58150, fols. 9-10. 35 another map, rolled and depicting the site of Qal’at Sherqat (the ancient capital city Aššur), is also part of this archive. 36 Today, this portrait can be viewed in the National Portrait Gallery in London (NPG 1797). 37 cf. the entries for 11,12, 14, 26 and 28 May 1892 in Enid’s Journal. 38 Ibid., entries for 10 and 12 December 1892, 24 and 27 January 1893 and 13 May 1893. A Family Treasure: The Layard Collection 129 second portrait was also unsatisfactory, the artist started a third portrait in May, which he finished in June39. Not only has this latest portrait, dated 1896 (when Enid was in mourning following Layard’s death) now been rediscovered in the Newcastle University archive – the second, unfinished portrait by Passini was also preserved under the most recent one. Dated 1892, it shows a slightly younger Enid wearing brighter and richer clothes. Therefore, the number of known portraits of Enid Layard should now be updated: two are currently kept at the British Museum in London (the most famous one by Vincente Palmaroli shows her wearing Assyrian jewels, while, in the second, by Charles Vigor, she sits on the balcony of her Venetian residence)40; another two – one finished and one unfinished – are held at Newcastle University.

The Layard Archive in Robinson Library at Newcastle University is small, yet in many respects unique as well. It reflects all the aspects that characterized Layard’s life: the archaeologist, the writer, the publisher of texts and drawings that documented his archaeological campaigns, the British man in love with Venice, its culture and its society, the diplomat and the art lover. Particularly interesting is that this archive presents an unprecedented image of Layard, one that is much more personal and direct than the image that he and Enid conveyed through publications and bequests to national institutions. In my opinion, this is due both to the female creators of this collection (Enid and her sister Maria were those who selected and created its original materials) and to the setting from which it derives, which is strictly private. Items from this archive were considered to be family keepsakes, a real ‘family treasure’: it is for this reason that the Layard Archive in Newcastle is particularly interesting in light of all the other known repositories.

39 Ibid., entries for 27 April, 5 May and 6 June 1896 (also 7 February 1897). 40 Museum numbers: BM 1980,1216.1 and BM 2006,0307.1. On the first portrait painted by Palmaroli, cf. Rudoe, Lady Layard’s Jewellery, pp. 214-215. Fig. 1 a, b - The cover of the large photo album with Layard’s motto (a) and one of the photos contained in it (b). Newcastle University Library, Layard Archive. 130 Fig. 2 - Red folder containing Layard’s proofs and drawings. Newcastle University Library, Layard Archive. Fig. 3 - Title page of A Second Series of The Monuments of Nineveh, with Layard’s handwritten corrections. Newcastle University Library, Layard Archive.

131 Fig. 4 a, b - Two of the drawings included in the red folder. Newcastle University Library, Layard Archive.

132 Fig. 5 - Photograph showing Henry and Enid Layard together with their two nieces (Ola and Nela) and Herbert Thompson at the Lido in Venice, May 1892. Newcastle University Library, Layard Archive. Fig. 6 - Photograph of Enid Layard at Ca’ Cappello, to be dated after Layard’s death, i.e. after 1894. Newcastle University Library, Layard Archive. 133 Fig. 7 - Henry Layard’s first letter to Maria. Newcastle University Library, Layard Archive, lay 1/1/2/1. 134 Fig. 8 a, b, c - First pages of one of Enid Layard’s letter to her sister Maria, with a description of the couple’s first days at Ca Cappello. Newcastle University Library, Layard Archive, lay 1/1/1/64. 135

Henrike Rost

New perspectives on a supranational elite in Venice: Lady Layard’s musical activities and her autograph book (1881-1912)

Abstract In September of 1881, Mary Enid Evelyn Layard noted in her diary: «Went to Naya’s & got an album for signatures & took a turn under the procuratie». Throughout the following three decades, the English lady undertook the creation of a very particular collection. By 1912, her album contained more than 400 autographs. Documenting the numerous acquaintances of the Layards, the volume gathers the most illustrious names of the time. These people were often travelling – in Venice and elsewhere – and formed a supranational elite: princes and aristocrats, military personnel, diplomats, clerics, scholars and artists from almost all European countries and beyond. The autograph book also includes a few musical contributions by Pietro Mascagni, the cellist Gaetano Braga and the English composer Ethel Smyth. These pages testify to Lady Layard’s enthusiasm for music, which she also expressed through her activities as an amateur performer or the musical evenings she held in her Venetian palace.

On September 5, 1881, Lady Layard noted in her diary: «Went to Naya’s & got an album for signatures & took a turn under the procuratie»1. At the time of writing this entry the then 38-year-old Lady Layard (1843-1912) – christened Mary Enid Evelyn Guest – had been married for more than a decade to the archaeologist, politician

1 This and the subsequent citations from Lady Layard’s journal (below = LJ) follow the online transcription of the manuscripts, kept in the British Library Department of Manuscripts (BL, Layard Papers, Add MSS 46153-46170, 58173, 50182): (last accessed 10/01/2019). 138 Henrike Rost and diplomat Austen Henry Layard (1817-1894). Due to her family background and her marriage to a well-known public figure in 1869, she was allowed to meet many leading personalities and celebrities of her time. In starting to collect autographs, she was able to keep a record of these influential contacts.T o begin her collection, she bought a handy book bound in olive-green morocco from the shop owned by the photographer Carlo Naya, located in Piazza San Marco. In the following 31 years, from 1881 to 1912, the year of her death, Lady Layard would collect more than 400 autographs in her album, often called «the autograph book». This little album, which today belongs to the British Library in London2, will serve in this paper as an innovative source to retrace the numerous acquaintances of the Layards and to explore their personal and social environment in Venice and elsewhere.

Collecting autographs and the Stammbuch tradition

In the Nineteenth century, the practice of collecting autographs was widespread and very popular. In its personally motivated form, the custom’s purpose was both a documentation of one’s own contacts with celebrities of the day and a private memory of friends and acquaintances. However, in the 1880s the social phenomenon was already in a process of deep modification, if not in decline. This development is also reflected in the conception of Lady Layard’s album, which contains mostly short signatures with dates, and rarely features more extensive entries, which provide information beyond the name and date. In fact, the autograph book includes only about ten such larger contributions. Collecting autographs in a book, as a custom of higher social classes, dates back to the late Sixteenth century. In this era arose the so- called Stammbücher or Alba amicorum, particularly in German academic circles3. These books contained memories of personal friends and

2 BL, Layard Papers, Add MS 50149; ‹Lady Layard’s autograph book› (below = LAB). The online catalogue of the British Library provides a list of all entries. 3 For more on this topic see W.W. Schnabel, Das Stammbuch. Konstitution und Geschichte einer textsortenbezogenen Sammelform bis ins erste Drittel des 18. Jahrhunderts, New perspectives on a supranational elite in Venice 139 colleagues in the form of handwritten lines as well as precious autographs of influential clerics and scholars. Apart from some developments and adaptations in order to align with the respective contemporary fashion, the Stammbuch tradition remained intact for the major part of the Nineteenth century and became a European phenomenon. In general, the autograph inscriptions in an album comprise shorter texts or poetry, individualised by a personal dedication with signature, date and place. Furthermore, these albums sometimes contained accompanying drawings, pictures and musical notation, and thus some bars or even whole pieces of music are found4. Therefore,Stammbücher , in bringing together literature, visual arts and music, represent a very particular and enlightening source for cultural history.

‘Talking about albums’ – Examples from Lady Layard’s journal

Lady Layard kept a personal journal, which ultimately comprised more than 8.000 pages, written over a 51-year-period, from 1861 to 1912. This rich source provides an important reference through which to contextualise the numerous names featured in her autograph book. In reading through the English lady’s diary entries, one can find a number of references to collecting activities and the creation of albums. Beyond this, the journal also provides interesting information about the activities of the Layards and their entourage, especially concerning the organisation of leisure time. Thus, the diary entries allow today’s scholars access to the cultural life of a particular private sphere, one that is still under-researched. Such access is generally promising with regard to gaining deeper insights into Nineteenth-century society. In terms of the Stammbuch tradition, for instance, Lady Layard’s

Tübingen 2003 (Frühe Neuzeit. Studien und Dokumente zur deutschen Literatur und Kultur im europäischen Kontext, 78); Id., Das Album Amicorum. Ein gemischtmediales Sammelmedium und einige seiner Variationsformen, in Album. Organisationsform narrativer Kohärenz, edited by A. Kramer - A. Pelz, Göttingen 2013, pp. 213-239. 4 notably, albums created by Nineteenth-century musical elites and their respective social circles featured a particular emphasis on music. For more on this see H. Rost, Musik-Stammbücher. Erinnerung, Unterhaltung und Kommunikation im Europa das 19. Jahrhunderts, Köln 2020 (Musik – Kultur – Gender, 17). 140 Henrike Rost diary entry from October 27, 1880, is of great interest. She reports on a conversation with «Mr & Miss Browning», which took place that night at Ca’ Cappello, the Layards’ Venetian residence situated on the Grand Canal and purchased in 18745. The well-known poet Robert Browning told the company an anecdote which made reference to the use of Stammbücher in Vienna, in which Ludwig van Beethoven wrote a musical piece in the album of an English girl, in remembrance of their meeting. Significant is the remark that «most young ladies» of this time would have been in possession of such a memory album for handwritten entries.

Wednesday. 27th. [...] He [Mr Browning] told a story of Mrs Payne who was a niece of Miss Burney’s. How when she was in Vienna in her youth having a great admiration for Beethoven’s music wh[ich] was then hardly known she climbed the stairs of the house in wh[ich] he lived in an upper floor & asked to see the composer. He received her & she proceeded to say that she had ventured to call having a great wish to see a man who had written such fine things. Great was B.’s astonishment at being known at such a distance as England & his delight proportionate. He asked her if she had an album as most young ladies had. On her saying she had he then sat down & wrote her a small original piece & they parted with mutual compliments6. Many other entries in Layard’s journal bear witness to different album activities. In April 1888, one can read that «Mr Marzials» had written in Lady Sophia’s album during her visit in Venice7. It is worth

5 Ca’ Cappello housed Layard’s high-value art collection. Cf. R. Mamoli Zorzi, Enid e Henry Austen Layard. Collezionismo e mondanità a Palazzo Cappello, in Personaggi stravaganti a Venezia tra ’800 e ’900, edited by F. Bisutti - M. Celotti, Crocetta del Montello 2010, pp. 75-96; I. Favaretto, La collezione Layard: storia, formazione e vicende, in Austen Henry Layard tra l’Oriente e Venezia, Symposium Internazionale, Venezia 26- 28 ottobre 1983, edited by F.M. Fales - B.J. Hickey, Rome 1987, pp. 227-236. About the display of the pictures at Ca’ Cappello cf. C. Riva, La collezione Layard nel catalogo dattiloscritto 1896, «Predella. Journal of Visual Arts», 35 (2014), pp. 53-78. 6 lJ (27 October 1880 - Ca’ Cappello, Venice). 7 «Lady Sophia, Mr Gordon & I went to tea with Mr Marzials. […] He expected us; showed us over the house & was very amusing. He was writing in Lady Sophia’s album», LJ (9 April 1888 - Ca’ Cappello). Lady Sophia can be identified as Sophia Matilda Palmer; accompanied by her father she travelled through Italy and they spent Easter 1888 as guests New perspectives on a supranational elite in Venice 141 mentioning that the British poet and composer Théophile-Jules-Henri ‹Theo› Marzials (1850-1920) had already left his signature in Lady Layard’s autograph book the year before8. Then, in March 1895, during a trip to Egypt, Lady Layard drew a picture in her friend’s album in Cairo: «After lunch I did a drawing in Katherine Arbuthnot’s Album which took me till 4.30 then went out»9. Likewise, Lady Layard reports on her own autograph album in her diary. In July 1901, in London, for instance, she writes about a meeting with a journalist, who contributed to her book. At that time, it had already become an impressive collection of famous names: «Visit […] from Mr James Knowles Editor of the Nineteenth Century – He was interested at seeing my autograph book & flattered at being asked to sign his name in it»10.

Lady Layard’s autograph book (1881-1912)

Beginning in 1881, Lady Layard would work on her autograph collection for more than three decades. The last entry is dated October 30, 1912, two days before her death. It is a signature from the Italian politician Luigi Luzzatti (1841-1927)11. While Layard’s diary remained silent during the last days of her life, she continued her autograph collection virtually until her last breath. The majority of the well over 400 entries, which she compiled in her autograph book, comprise of simple signatures, most of which are dated. The large number of names shows that the English lady aimed not only to document her contacts and friendships, but also tried to immortalise her own position and importance in the society of the time. Coming back to the beginning of the collection, it should be noted that the album was inaugurated in 1881 by the signature of Lady Layard’s husband12. Two years later, Austen Henry Layard would contribute of the Layards. Cf. S.M. Palmer, Comtesse de Franqueville 1852-1915. A Memoir by her Sister Lady Laura Ridding, London 1919, p. 191. 8 laB, fol. 7b (dated: «22d. Octo. 87»). 9 lJ (29 March 1895 - Cairo). 10 lJ (21 July 1901 - 3 Savile Row). 11 laB, fol. 46 (dated «30 ottobre 1912»). In the British Library catalogue, the name is incorrectly reported as «Luigi Luggatti». 12 laB, fol. 1 (dated: «Venice Septr 1881»). 142 Henrike Rost another much longer entry, dated in July 1883 in Potsdam (Fig. 1)13. The page seems to have been added to the album on account of the difference in paper quality between this entry and the rest of the book. The upper part of the page shows three lines of a cuneiform inscription followed by a longer paragraph in Latin characters: a Bible quote from Ezekiel, chapter 23, verses 14 and 15. The writer slightly altered the Biblical text, by swapping the personal pronoun («she» to «he») at the beginning, which might be understood as a humorous allusion to his past as an explorer14. The cuneiform text translates as follows: «Palace of Ashurnasirpal, priest of the god Ashur, favourite of the god Enlil, […] son of Adad-narari, king of the world, king of Assyria, man […]»15. The text, written in Akkadian, comes from the Standard Inscription of Ashurnasirpal II, whose North-West Palace Layard had uncovered while excavating Kalhu (Nimrud) in the 1840s. The inscription in cuneiform, at that time not yet deciphered, was first published by Layard in 185116. As Andrew George has pointed out, the version from Lady Layard’s autograph book is significantly truncated17. As previously stated, Lady Layard purchased the album on

13 laB, fol. 6 (dated: «Neues Palais. July 23. 1883»). Cf. also LJ (23 July 1883 - Berlin): «Thence we drove to the Palace at Potsdam». 14 layard writes: «He saw men portrayed upon the wall, / the images of the Chaldeans painted / with vermillion – Girded with girdles / upon their loins, exceeding in dyed / tiaras upon their heads, all of them / Princes to look to, after the manner / of the Babylonians of , the / land of their nativity». Cf. King James version of the Bible: (10.1.2018). 15 i am very thankful to Prof Andrew R. George (SOAS University of London) for this translation and his detailed comment on the inscription (for the omissions cf. note 17). 16 Cf. A.H. Layard, Inscriptions in the Cuneiform Character from Assyrian Monuments discovered by A. H. Layard, London 1851, pl. 1. 17 after the word «man» should follow the adjective «valiant». Then the text should go on and list further epithets and achievements, culminating in the building of Ashurnasirpal’s palace at Kalhu (Nimrud). More content between «Enlil» and «son of Adad-narari» is missing; it should read: «and the god Ninurta, beloved of the gods Anu and Dagan, weapon of the great gods, mighty king, king of the world, king of Assyria, son of Tukulti-Ninurta, great king, mighty king, king of the world, king of Assyria». There are at least 406 exemplars of this inscription, which was engraved on hundreds of wall slabs in the North-West Palace at Nimrud. For the most recent edition see A.K. Grayson, Assyrian Rulers of the Early First Millennium BC I (1114-859 BC), Toronto 1991 (The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia. Assyrian Periods, 2), pp. 268-276. New perspectives on a supranational elite in Venice 143

September 5, 1881, and started collecting autographs only a few days later – with seemingly immediate success. The back of the first page comprises no less than 14 signatures (Fig. 2), of which only linguistic researcher Armin Vámbéry added to his signature, contributing two lines in Persian18. Obviously addressing Austen Henry Layard, the text translates to: «In the home of the best scholar of the east [i. e. Layard], a famous traveller, [and] the owner of the house»19. With regard to the Persian inscription and the given date, it can be concluded that Vámbéry wrote his entry at Ca’ Cappello on September 10, 1881. Focusing on the contextualisation of the whole album page, it is fundamental to understand exactly who all of these contributors are20:

Name Profession Nationality Date of entry Ferencz Pulszky archaeologist Hungarian 9 Sep. 1881 Charles Thomas Major-General British 10 Sep. 1881 Haig (Royal Engineers) Andrew Wilson Colonel (Royal British 10 Sep. 1881 Baird Engineers) Armin Vámbéry traveller/Turkologist Hungarian 10 Sep. 1881 George Montague Captain (US US American 10 Sep. 1881 Wheeler Engineers) Hans Olof archaeologist Swedish 10 Sep. 1881 Hildebrand Friedrich von Pilat geographer Austrian 10 Sep. 1881 Daniel Higford politician British 10 Sep. 1881 Davall Burr Anne Margaretta painter British 10 Sep. 1881 Burr [?] van den Broek geographer Dutch [?] Sep. 1881 d’Obrenan

18 laB, fol. 1b. 19 i am very thankful to Dr John Curtis and Dr Massoumeh Sefinia (Iran Heritage Foundation) for this translation and interpretation of the Persian inscription. 20 cf. the unordered list in the catalogue of the British Library. 144 Henrike Rost

Name Profession Nationality Date of entry Francisco de Paula geographer Spanish 12 Sep. 1881 Arrillaga Niccolò Barozzi historian Italian 1881 Duca Onorato politician Italian 12 Sep. 1881 Caetani Henry Edward Surveyor General (of British 12 Sep. 1881 Landor Thuillier India)

Again, Lady Layard’s journal is helpful to find out more about this group of people. During September of 1881, geographers from all over the world met in Venice. The diary reports on a big dinner for «the geographical commissioners» on the first of September21, preceding the «Terzo Congresso Geografico Internazionale»22, which took place along with other festivities in town23. As such, Lord and Lady Layard were rather busy, welcoming guests at Palazzo Cappello almost every day. Equipped with her new album, the hostess obviously took the opportunity to document the numerous international contacts that she encountered. Mentioning some of the people listed above, Lady Layard wrote in her journal:

Saturday. 10th September. […] We sat down 10 to dinner. Besides ourselves & the Burrs there were Le Chevalier de Pilat (Austrian Consul Genl. & Austrian Commr at the Congress), M. de Vambery (Hungarian Comr), Dott Hildebrand (Swedish Commr), Capt Wheeler (American Comr), Col. Haig & Captn Baird. Directly after dinner Henry & all the Commrs had to go to a Giunta at the Sindaco’s & left Col. Haig & Mr Baird to wait with us. Mr Trollope came in. We had tea & talk to spin out the time till the Commrs return but Mr Trollope at last gave them up & went away. They returned ab[ou]t 11. I gave them tea & made them write in my autograph book24.

21 lJ (1 September 1881 - Ca’ Cappello). 22 Cf. Terzo Congresso Geografico Internazionale tenuto a Venezia da 15 al 22 settembre 1881, 2 Vols., Rome 1882–1884. 23 Cf. J.A. May, La Biennale di Venezia. Kontinuität und Wandel in der venezianischen Ausstellungspolitik 1895-1948, Berlin 2009 (Studi. Schriftenreihe des Deutschen Studienzentrums in Venedig, 2), pp. 26-27. 24 lJ (10 September 1881 - Ca’ Cappello). New perspectives on a supranational elite in Venice 145

Following this, Lady Layard’s observation from September 20, ten days after the dinner at Ca’ Cappello, provides valuable insight into how the Venetian aristocracy behaved towards the many international guests in town:

Tuesday. 20th September. […] [Princess Giovanelli] gave a great party to all the ‘Congressisti’ and there were a great quantity of people there Venetians & foreigners. The house is a regular large fineV enetian Palace tho[ugh] done up in rather a bad French style. However every one was delighted and I was very glad that Venice society should have done something for the foreigners. I believe if Andriana Marcello & I had not laid our heads together & got the Sindaco to work at the Princess she would not have given the party25. According to this diary note, Lady Layard took on an active role in order to mediate between the Venetian aristocrats and the «foreigners» in town. Apparently, she did not count herself as one of the latter. In fact, the Layards identified themselves with the city ofV enice and belonged to those «foresti» (‘foreigners’ in Venetian dialect) who committed themselves to influential local projects26. It should be noted here that neither Princess Giovanelli nor Andriana Marcello contributed to Layard’s autograph book27. In any case, the collection of influential names grew continuously in the following years. Beyond geographers and archaeologists, the album brought together aristocrats, princes and princesses, clerics, politicians, military personnel, diplomats, travellers, architects, lawyers, historians,

25 lJ (20 September 1881 - Ca’ Cappello). 26 Thus, Austen Henry Layard was a leading figure in the revival of Murano glass. Cf. R. Mamoli Zorzi, “Foresti” in Venice in the Second Half of the 19th Century: Their Passion for Paintings, Brocades, and Glass, «Atti dell’IVSLA», 174, I (2015-2016), Classe di Scienze Fisiche, Matematiche e Naturali, pp. 14-21. On Lady Layard’s role, her achievements and charity activities see B.J. Hickey, Lady Layard’s Venice Circle, in Fales-Hickey, eds., Austen Henry Layard, pp. 159-165; J. Pemble, The Resident Strangers of Nineteenth-Century Venice: Myth and Reality, in Rawdon Brown and the Anglo-Venetian relationship, edited by R.A. Griffiths - J.E. Law, Stroud 2005, pp. 50-53. 27 Opening a school for lace-making in 1872, Countess Andriana Marcello and Princess Giovanelli Chigi played a key role in the revival of Burano lace. Cf. K. de Kay Bronson [Catherine Cornaro], The revival of Burano lace, «Century Magazine», 23 (1882), pp. 333-343. 146 Henrike Rost scholars and artists from all over the world – with around sixty women included among them. To put it briefly, we are dealing with the highest and most illustrious circles of European society – or to say it with the words of Angelo Righetti: «il fiore della Intellighenzia artistica politica diplomatica anglosassone ed europea»28. Also of note are about ten contributions from British bishops as well as the name of the Indian maharajah of Bikaner, Ganga Singh29. Alongside this, among many representatives of international nobility and heirs apparent one finds in the album the signatures of the last German emperor Wilhelm II and his empress Augusta Victoria30. Both inscribed their names in the book on the occasion of a visit to Ca’ Cappello on April 15, 1909. Here, the album functions as a guest book which documents, at least in part, the visitors to the Layards’ Venetian residence. But even though most of the signatures in the book were collected in Venice, primarily at Palazzo Cappello, Lady Layard also took the album with her on her trips. As a result, inscriptions were made in various other locations, such as London, Paris, Rome, Brussels and even Luxor in Egypt. The signatures of the Princes of Montenegro31, for instance, were created during a journey by the Layards to Cettinje, the Old Royal Capital of Montenegro, in 190432. With regard to the varied selection of people featured in the album, the great number of different nationalities, united in this book, is striking. Within its pages, one can meet not only the whole of Europe – English, Italian, German, Austrian, French, Hungarian, Spanish, Portuguese or Scandinavian people – but also representatives of the United States, the Ottoman Empire, Russia, Egypt and India. People from all these nations came together in Venice and, distinguished

28 A. Righetti, Layard tra gli intellettuali inglesi e americani in Italia, in Austen Henry Layard, p. 104. 29 laB, fol. 31 (dated: «24th December 1905»). 30 laB, fol. 40 (dated: «Venice 15 / IV 09»). 31 laB, fol. 26 (dated: «Cettigné le 5 Oct. 1904»). On the page, one can read the names of the Princes Nicholas and Mirko Dmitri as well as those of their wives Milena and Nathalie. The written date seems to be wrong, as the Layards only arrived in Cettinje on October 14. Cf. LJ (14 October 1904 - «En route to Cettinje»). 32 cf. LJ (18 October 1904 - Cettinje): «They also wrote their names in my autograph book wh[ich] I took there for the purpose». New perspectives on a supranational elite in Venice 147 by their social affiliation to an upper-class community, constituted a supranational elite – without regard for the strong nationalist aspirations and prejudices of the Nineteenth century. This community was united by its privileged lifestyle and its corresponding leisurely activities, and therefore national characteristics held little influence. Used to frequent journeys and changing locations, these elitist circles, to which the Layards belonged, chose Venice as one of their favourite stages33.

Musical entries in the autograph book

As previously mentioned, the contributions of artists represent a meaningful part in the autograph book’s panorama. In the album, one can find the names of well-known writers, painters, composers, musicians and actors. Among the most famous names are Gabriele D’Annunzio, Eleonora Duse, John Ruskin, Mark Twain, and composers like Pietro Mascagni or Camille Saint-Saëns. Concerning only the musicians and composers featured in the autograph book, a total of six contributed more than their simple signature to the album34. In 1907, Pietro Mascagni adorned his signature with a melody from his opera Cavalleria Rusticana, executed in a swinging and easily legible handwriting (Fig. 3)35. The cellist Gaetano Braga – «a funny looking old man […] bubbling over with fun […] [having] all the outward characteristics of the Southern Italian»36 – wrote a few bars from his

33 The British Layards are considered part of the «Palazzo Barbaro circle», the first generation of American expatriates in Venice, among them the Curtises and the Gardners (Palazzo Barbaro), the Bronsons (Casa Alvisi), and artists such as Henry James, John Singer Sargent and Robert Browning. Cf. H. Borchmeyer, Das amerikanische Künstlermilieu in Venedig. Von 1880 bis zur Gegenwart, Berlin 2013 (Studi. Schriftenreihe des Deutschen Studienzentrums in Venedig, 10), pp. 91-128; Gondola Days. Isabella Stewart Gardner and the Palazzo Barbaro Circle, edited by E.A. Mccauley - A. Chong - R. Mamoli Zorzi - R. Lingner, Boston 2004. 34 in chronological order these are: Arthur Goring Thomas (Venice 1890), Gaetano Braga (Rome 1899), Lorenzo Perosi (Padua 1904), Ethel Smyth (Venice 1904), Pietro Mascagni (Venice 1907), William Alexander Houston Collisson (London 1908). 35 laB, fol. 34 (dated: «Venezia. 19.V.907»). 36 lJ (13 February 1899 - Rome). 148 Henrike Rost

Serenata in Rome37. He addressed the album owner in a personal dedication: «A Lady Layard affettuoso ricordo di Gaetano Braga»38. In Padua, priest and composer Lorenzo Perosi left three chords with his signature39, while another cleric, William Alexander Houston Collisson, himself not composer but an enthusiastic singer40, noted the melody of an Irish song («Oh! – Wait for a while now, Mary») in the pages of the autograph book while at Layard’s London residence in Savile Row (Fig. 4)41. In her lifetime, Lady Layard, herself a devoted musician, met many composers and musicians from all over Europe. Especially in Venice, she regularly invited artists and musicians to Ca’ Cappello, among them the English composer Ethel Smyth. In Layard’s journal she appears as «the lady who wrote the Opera The wreckers»42. Thus, it is not surprising that Smyth wrote for Layard’s autograph book a few bars from the second act love duet «Flamme d’amour, feu témèraire!» (Fig. 5)43. She had just finished the orchestration of this act at the end of May 190444. In 1890, composer Arthur Goring Thomas had been the first one to contribute music to the album. He opted for a melody («Douce

37 lJ (19 February 1899 - Rome): «Later came Braga the violincellist. He wrote his signature in my book with a few bars of his celebrated ‹Serenade›». 38 laB, fol. 16 (dated: «Roma 19.2.99»). 39 laB, fol. 25 (dated: «Padova 14.6.904»). 40 on Collisson’s passion for music, see especially the preface of Dr. Collisson in and on Ireland. A Diary of a Tour, with Personal Anecdotes, Notes Auto-Biographical and Impressions by W. A. Houston Collisson, London 1908, pp. VII-X. 41 laB, fol. 31 (dated: «March V.’8»). Cf. LJ (5 March 1908 - 3 Savile Row): «Dr Collisson came to lunch & afterwards Dr C. sang some of his charming Irish songs». 42 lJ (9 June 1910 - Ca’ Cappello). «At 4 Miss Ethel Smythe [sic] came to see me – the lady who wrote the Opera “The wreckers”. She is doing the sun & sand cure on the Lido». 43 laB, fol. 27 (dated: «27th Octb 04 Venice»). The melody should be sung unisono by two voices (22-year-old Thirza and fisherman Mark); their duet concludes the third scene of the second act. Smyth’s opera The Wreckers, based on Henry Brewster’s drama Les Naufrageurs, is most common in its English version; for a piano-vocal score of the French and the German version cf. Ethel Smyth, Les Naufrageurs (St[r]andrecht), Drame lyrique en trois actes de H. B. [i. e. Henry Brewster], (Ins Deutsche ubertragen von John Bernhoff), Leipzig 1906. 44 Cf. E. Smyth, What Happened Next, London 1940, p. 254. New perspectives on a supranational elite in Venice 149 hirondelle qu’attirent les cieux») from his opera Esmeralda45, which he noted during a musical evening at Ca’ Cappello:

Thursday. 18th September. […] Mr Frank Leo Schuster came to dinner & brought Mr Goring Thomas the composer of ‹Esmerelda› [sic], Mr Phillips the art critic. After dinner Lady Elizabeth & Miss Adeane came & we had some music. Mr Schuster banged some Grieg on our new piano & then Pss Victoria & Margaret came over & Pss Vic. sang with Miss Adeane & then Mr G. Thomas played some of his own music most delightfully – & Miss Adeane tried to sing some of the Esmerelda to his accompaniment. It was nearly 12 when we separated & went our various ways46.

Music at Ca’ Cappello

In the previously quoted paragraph from Layard’s journal, there is one phrase, which appears again and again while reading the diary entries: «After dinner […] we had some music». Indeed, music played a vital role in the Layard family. Lady Layard especially reports continuously about her own musical activities: She played the harmonium, the guitar, the pianoforte, the organ and also sang – sometimes by herself, but most of the time in company or in front of an exclusive audience. These numerous musical events, organised by Lady Layard, frequently involved local professional musicians. Reading the journal, one often comes across the name of violinist Raffaello Frontali, for instance, who is also present in the autograph book47. Frontali, music professor at the ‘Liceo Musicale Benedetto Marcello’ in Venice, belonged to the musicians ‘en vogue’ at the aristocratic salons in Venice during this period; among others he played at the salon of Princess Hatzfeldt in Palazzo Malipiero at San Samuele, whom we know as a close friend of the Wagner family in Venice48. Lady Layard first mentions Frontali after

45 laB, fol. 11 (dated: «Sept. 18/90»). 46 lJ (18 September 1890 - Ca’ Cappello). 47 laB, fol. 3 (dated: «Venice 26-11-81»). 48 Marie von Hatzfeldt (1820-1897) regularly held musical soirees on Thursdays. Cf. 150 Henrike Rost she had heard him play one evening at the Eden family49. The day after, on November 26, 1881, the violinist was invited to Palazzo Cappello. He wrote his name into the album and played together with some ladies also present that night:

Saturday. 26th November. […] In the evening Mr Frontali came at 9 & Bee was made to play the violin to him & then they tried a duet on the violin together. Ct Usedom, Mrs Eden, Katy Bagot, Miss Ker, P. & Pss Metternich, Signor Molmenti, Mme Hurtado, Idita, Css Olga, M. & Mme Pilat & Baron Warsberg came. Frontali played the violin all the evening now with Mme Pilat, now with Connie. She accompanied him in some of Beethovens Sonatas & we had only a short interval for tea50. From that day on, Frontali appears every now and then in the diary entries. For instance, he seemed to have played regularly in a trio for the so-called «Wedy music»51, organised by Lady Layard at Ca’ Cappello. A good illustration of one of these Wednesday evenings is provided in the following diary entry from 1882:

Wednesday. 27th December. Wrote letters in Henry’s room as my chimney was being cleaned. Fine day. Went out with Henry, landed at St Moisé & walked to Piazza & took a few turns while the band played. Home by 4. Wrote more letters till T[ea]. Practised harmonium. Dined at 7.30. Had music in even[in]g only P. Metternich, Css Marcello, Css Brandolin, Css Canevaro & Ct & Mlle Cozzi came besides the 3 musicians Frontali, Trombini & Dini. Had some very pleasant music – a trio of Beethovens, duetts for piano & violin &c &c. They all left at 11.3052. This short description of the Layards’ daily routine in Venice allows us to revive the musical activities of the aristocratic circles in

C.F. Glasenapp, Das Leben Richard Wagners in 6 Büchern, VI (1877-1883), Leipzig 1911, pp. 728-729. 49 cf. LJ (25 November 1881 - Ca’ Cappello). 50 lJ (26 November 1881 - Ca’ Cappello). 51 lJ (22 December 1882 - Ca’ Cappello); see also the diary entries on Wednesdays from 29 November 1882 to 24 January 1883. 52 lJ (27 December 1882 - Ca’ Cappello). New perspectives on a supranational elite in Venice 151

Venice during the last decades of the Nineteenth century. Beyond this, Lady Layard’s autograph book reveals a vast network of contacts and acquaintances, which can be considered typical for the part of society she belonged to. These circles, used to frequent journeys and living abroad, can be distinguished foremost by their exclusive lifestyle rather than by their national identity – the cultural orientation of these elites should therefore be considered supranational. Nevertheless, particularly in the Nineteenth century, nationalities do matter, as shown by an article from the Gazzetta di Venezia of February 12, 1890. It reports on a grand ball, organised by the Layards at Ca’ Cappello. Giving a biographical summary of Austen Henry Layard, the author honours the «viaggiatore, esploratore, uomo politico, e scrittore profondo e forbito» – identified as «una pagina vivente di storia inglese innestata in qualche punto nella storia italiana»53.

53 Cronaca Rosa. In casa Layard, «Gazzetta di Venezia. Giornale politico quotidiano col riassunto degli atti amministrativi e giudiziarii di tutto il Veneto», 12 February 1890. Fig. 1 - Austen Henry Layard’s entry (1883) in his wife’s autograph book. © The British Library Board (Add MS 50149, fol. 6). 152 Fig. 2 - The 14 signatures found on the back of the first page of Lady Layard’s autograph book. © The British Library Board (Add MS 50149, fol. 1b). 153 Fig. 3 - Pietro Mascagni’s entry (1907) in Lady Layard’s autograph book. © The British Library Board (Add MS 50149, fol. 34). Fig. 4 - W. A. Houston Collison’s entry (1908) in Lady Layard’s autograph book. © The British Library Board (Add MS 50149, fol. 31). Fig. 5 - Ethel Smyth’s entry (1904) in Lady Layard’s autograph book. © The British Library Board (Add MS 50149, fol. 27). 154 Jonathan P. Parry1

Henry Layard and the British Parliament: Outsider and Expert

Abstract Layard was an MP for fourteen years, but his parliamentary career is one of the least-known aspects of his life. This article shows that his main concern as an MP was to demonstrate expertise on foreign and particularly eastern policy. He did this partly to develop his fame, partly to boost his chance of office, and partly to emphasise that parliament should be full of men of knowledge and talent like himself, rather than idle gentlemen. He became a Foreign Office minister twice, and enjoyed it. However his refusal to consider office in other departments, or to speak on a wider range of topics, destroyed his career prospects. Therefore, though superficially a radical hostile to class privilege, he had little to contribute to domestic politics. His main interests remained diplomacy and global strategy – as his later career demonstrated.

Henry Layard was a Member of Parliament in the British House of Commons from 1852 to 1857 and again from 1860 to 1869. His parliamentary career is usually treated as a puzzle, to be passed over quickly in his life story. To posterity, he has four connected claims to fame: as a pioneering archaeologist; as an enterprising traveller and engaging travel-writer; as an art collector and critic; as a diplomat, above all in the Ottoman Empire. How, then, do his years in parliament fit with any of these? What did he hope to achieve in domestic politics?

1 i am very grateful to Stefania Ermidoro and Cecilia Riva, the conference organisers, for inviting me to talk on this subject in such stimulating surroundings, and to publish this essay. It is partly an interpretive and thematic reworking of a factual biographical article that will eventually appear in the multi-volume «History of Parliament» project: J. Parry, Layard, Austen Henry, in The History of Parliament: The House of Commons, 1832-68, edited by P. Salmon - K. Rix, forthcoming. 156 Jonathan P. Parry

To examine his behaviour in the House of Commons helps to answer these questions. He stuck to a rigid discipline of talking only about subjects he knew about, which meant mostly eastern policy. Whereas many MPs, then as now, opined on all sorts of subjects, he cultivated the image of an expert on Britain’s overseas relations, particularly in the regions in which he had lived for most of his adult life. He described himself as «never […] a man of speech – to a certain extent more a man of action» who «carefully avoided speaking […] on subjects in which he did not take a deep interest»2. He used the Commons as a way of projecting his authority on foreign affairs. By doing so he sought to achieve several objectives. The first was to confirm his reputation as a famous public figure: Parliament offered a stage and status which many pundits of this sort found valuable. The second was to increase his chance of political office by demonstrating a commanding expertise. This was his main objective, but it was a high- risk strategy: eventually he defined his circle of competence so tightly that he had little choice but to abandon parliament. The third was to express a particular view of the British political system. Layard entered parliament because he believed that it should contain men of knowledge and insight like himself, and that Britain would be governed better if information and talent counted for more and social background for less. He was a meritocrat. Moreover, self-conscious, egotistical and somewhat naïve, and used to the freedom of an Englishman’s life in the east, he was a natural rebel against institutions and structures. In particular, he disliked party discipline and conventional party tribalism. With these opinions, it was possible, when he entered parliament in 1852, to look like a radical, since many liberal-radical MPs were still suspicious of aristocratic whig politics, and keen to prioritise knowledge and rationality over stale party creeds. It quickly became clear, however, that Layard had little interest in the popular radical agendas, for example that of the Cobdenites. When he left parliament in 1869, he had clearly concluded that government and parliament refused to take expertise sufficiently into account, and instead were in thrall to party, to interests and to ignorant pressure. Posterity naturally tends to consider Layard primarily as an

2 Cfr. Hansard’s parliamentary debates, 3rd series, Vol. 135, p. 736 (25 July 1854). Henry Layard and the British Parliament 157

‘archaeologist’, despite the fact that the concept hardly existed at the time he excavated Nineveh. He was indeed attracted to dig the Mosul mounds partly because of a genuine fascination with what they might contain, which had been whetted by his reading of works by earlier explorers, such as Claudius Rich, and his desire to emulate the Frenchman Paul- Émile Botta, who had begun to dig at Khorsabad in 1842. But it is significant that both Rich and Botta were in Mesopotamia as diplomatic representatives of their countries. Layard’s consistent aim between 1841 and 1849 was to become an employee of the British Foreign Office in the Ottoman Empire, which would give him a secure professional career. Archaeology was partly a way of filling time until the Foreign Office gave into Stratford Canning’s strong pressure to give him a post, and partly a passport to the problem area of upper Mesopotamia, where he could demonstrate his political utility in various ways3. A diplomatic position was always the main objective. The Layard family defined respectability as the acquisition of public service roles, originally (in the eighteenth century) in the Church, and then (in the generation of Henry’s father Peter) in the Ceylon civil service, from which Peter had to retire young through severe ill-health. Henry’s widowed mother spent the ‘Hungry Forties’ watching from Cheltenham as all four of her sons traversed the world in a desperate search for professional status. Eventually Frederick found it in the Indian army, Arthur as a roving soldier (in the West Indies and Ireland, before dying in the in 1855), and Edgar as a customs house officer in Ceylon, later moving to South Africa. Henry felt bitterly the unfairness of a state patronage system that reserved the best chances of preferment to the well-connected offspring of aristocrats, to the detriment of able young men with few social advantages. It was to be the consistent theme of his domestic political career. It was striking, then, that Layard soon abandoned the paid attachéship at Constantinople that he secured in 1849 after so much effort, for a domestic political career. He did so because of disillusionment with Ottoman politics, but almost immediately luck gave him a bigger prize, the role of Under-Secretary in the Foreign Office, a significant office just outside the cabinet.A t the beginning of 1852, only a few months after he returned from his second dig at Nineveh,

3 i plan to explore this subject in a forthcoming book. 158 Jonathan P. Parry he was appointed to this post by the Liberal Prime Minister, Lord John Russell, and the Foreign Secretary, Lord Granville. This was because of the fame and reputation that Layard had acquired from Nineveh and its Remains (1849), his best-selling book about his first expedition. The radical «Daily News» hailed him as «a man of the people» whose appointment strengthened Russell’s government, which had been badly damaged by the resignation of the populist Lord Palmerston as Foreign Secretary in December 1851. Palmerston’s foreign policy had played to the liberal press and had angered Prince Albert and the Court, who were accordingly blamed for his dismissal. Layard was appointed to counter the perception that the government was now an aristocracy: Granville, Palmerston’s successor, was viewed as a Court stooge, and nicknamed «my lady’s lapdog». To the «Daily News», Layard’s appointment «sets at naught exclusion and caste pretensions; it is a search in the proper direction for real merit; […] it indicates a desire to employ the true workers of life»4. Layard himself announced that «a principle was involved in me, that for the first time a government unmindful of family ties and of political influence, had gone out of their way to offer place to one who had only received public approbation, and had only merit […] to recommend him»5.

How had Layard become a «man of the people»? Nineveh and its remains was and is one of the most appealing of all Victorian travelogues. In it, Layard presented himself as a self-reliant and tolerant adventurer whose initiative, perseverance and management of locals allowed him single-handedly to organize a complex excavation, defeating the obstacles to success thrown up by uncomfortable circumstances and by hostile Ottoman officials and religious leaders. As the first page suggested, he had acquired these skills from years of travelling in the east, «careless of comfort and unmindful of danger […] unembarrassed

4 Editorial, «Daily News», 14 February 1852; also A.H. Layard in «Buckinghamshire Advertiser», 10 July 1852. See J. Parry, The Politics of Patriotism: English Liberalism, National Identity and Europe, 1830-1886, Cambridge 2006, p. 203. 5 In his nomination speech as MP for Aylesbury, «Buckinghamshire Advertiser», 10 July 1852. The best source for Layard’s speeches in 1851-1853, discussed in these paragraphs, is the newspaper cuttings scrapbook in the Layard Papers, British Library, Add Mss 58174. Henry Layard and the British Parliament 159 by needless luxuries»6. With «no patron and with small means […]; I was thrown entirely upon my own decision and ingenuity». The object of his various travels was not to ally with «the great and affluent of other nations», but to «sojourn among the people, that I might be […] improved by their council»7. This image – pointedly the opposite of the experience of a young nobleman on a Grand Tour – stuck with him. In 1855, noting his unbiddable individualism, the press dubbed him «the Bedouin of Parliament»8. Nor did readers miss the repeated theme of the book, its author’s ability to turn what one reviewer called «wild groups of gesticulating and screaming Arabs and Chaldeans […] to the most patient and persevering workmen» through his «justice and courage». «Books such as this may help to keep us proud of the name of Englishmen»9. The treasures he sought «were only to be obtained by the co-operation and assistance of idle and unruly Arabs and Asiatics, debased by Turkish habits and customs, [so] the attempt to obtain possession of them very much demanded an union of those high qualities – courage, perseverance, and judgment»10. Layard, then, was one of the first heroes of the more classless political culture that was Britain’s answer to the continental revolutions of 184811. Between 1851 and 1853 he built on this perception by delivering a series of speeches about Nineveh to popular audiences, often Mechanics’ Institutes or other assemblies of working men. In them he told many stories about the skills needed to manage his workmen, his feasts and dances with Arabs and Kurds, and his discoveries about ancient Assyria. Popular interest in him was enhanced by the lack of previous information about Nineveh; all that was known were the Old Testament prophecies that an affronted God had ordained the destruction of Assyria’s mighty and proud imperial rule. Very many commentators regarded the discovery of the city’s physical remains as a rebuttal of advanced religious thinkers who had cast doubt on the veracity of the Old Testament, and Layard happily followed this general

6 A.H. Layard, Nineveh and its Remains, Vol. 1, London 1849, p. 1. 7 layard at Aylesbury, «Buckinghamshire Advertiser», 19 June 1852. 8 «Liverpool Albion», reported in «Cork Southern Reporter», 10 May 1855. 9 «Examiner», 6 January 1849. See also the review of A.H. Layard, Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon, London 1853: «Times», 17 May 1853. 10 Mayor of Leeds, «Leeds Mercury», 29 January 1853. 11 See Parry, The Politics of Patriotism, pp. 57-71 (esp. p. 70). 160 Jonathan P. Parry view. When he was awarded the Freedom of the City of London in 1853 it was for demonstrating «the accuracy of Sacred History»12. However a major concern of his was to explain Nineveh’s fall, which he did in terms not of divine vengeance but of social disharmony. Structural class divisions had poisoned Assyrian politics and religion. In Nineveh there were

but two classes in society, the governing, consisting of the few who monopolised knowledge, and consequently power; and the governed, the many who had no knowledge and power. They were bound together by no tie […] Such is the history of eastern nations to this day. [Christianity, however, teaches us] that all classes of society should be bound together by one common tie: that knowledge is the common property of us all, and that power – not the power of oppressing our fellow-creatures, but the power of adding to their happiness, and contributing to their welfare – is available to every member of the community13. Moreover, the «high priests and pontiffs of their days, the bishops and clergy, made a trade and a mystery of religion. Consequently, there was no bond of union or sympathy between the ministers of religion and the worshippers». The rulers of Nineveh «had no rational faith nor true liberty; their religion was a gross and demoralising superstition, their political condition the mere arbitrary will of one man or of one class». Their mistake was in not seeing that nations «must be communities of progress, and representatives of the people should be the reflex of the people’s mind». «In these things we may trace the cause of the downfall of these nations, and if you read history you will find it has been so with all nations that have similarly perished»14. The aspiring MP was here spelling out three messages. One was the

12 For the full encomium, see S. Malley, From Archaeology to Spectacle in Victorian Britain: The Case of Assyria, 1845-1854, London 2012, p. 1. 13 layard at Peterborough Mechanics’ Institute, «Lincolnshire Chronicle», 6 February 1852. 14 layard at Aylesbury, «Buckinghamshire Advertiser», 10 July 1852; at the Guildhall, Report of the meeting of the Common Council, 9 February 1854: Layard papers, Add Mss 58174, fo.128. Henry Layard and the British Parliament 161 need for politicians always to promote collaboration and understanding between classes at home. He told the Peterborough Mechanics’ Institute that, had there been a similar body devoted to popular education in Nineveh, it would not now be «a heap of earth»15. The Conservative party, still reluctant to abandon the classist policy of agricultural protection, was not sound on such matters. Thus when Russell’s government fell within days of Layard’s appointment as Under-Secretary, he declined the offer of the new Conservative Prime Minister, Lord Derby, to continue in office, and sought a seat in parliament with the Liberals’ help. He asserted that Derby was «opposed to the age»16. The second message was that religious leaders must also act as tolerant guides of the whole nation, rather than a separate and arrogant priesthood with superior pretensions to theological truth. This was an attack on high church Anglicans and Roman Catholics, and their (mostly Tory) followers; Layard was instinctively a Huguenot anti-clerical. The third message concerned foreign policy. Layard, like Canning and most of the British diplomatic officials in the Ottoman Empire, felt themselves to be spectators in a struggle for global dominance between the western nations and Russia. Britain and France believed in ethical and humanitarian values, and wished to extend them in the east. Russia, however, was an autocracy, which was instinctively sympathetic to Ottoman misgovernment, and yet also the real beneficiary of the western attacks on it. Layard’s solution to the eastern question was similar to Canning’s: to use British influence to press the Ottomans to govern their countries less like the ancient Assyrians and more like the British (should) in India. That was the only basis on which their empire would survive and Russian ambitions to succeed it be frustrated.

This was a political agenda of sorts, but it lacked detail. Layard was elected MP for Aylesbury at the general election in July 1852, but showed a lack of grip on domestic policy issues, which was perhaps excusable in one who had lived so little in England. After one speech he was asked if he would support Joseph Hume’s motion for parliamentary reform – the defining idea among radical MPs – and had to ask

15 «Lincolnshire Chronicle», 6 February 1852. 16 «Daily News», 2 March 1852; «Morning Post», 7 July 1852. 162 Jonathan P. Parry what it proposed, before suggesting that he would vote for whatever Reform motions his running-mate Richard Bethell supported. He was similarly uninformed about the secret ballot17. This vagueness about Reform continued throughout his parliamentary career. In December 1863 he told his Southwark constituents that he would give the vote to «the man who had the intelligence to use it, but not to him who had not such intelligence», not a phrase that was likely to help a draftsman of parliamentary legislation18. He always presented himself as a man independent of faction and indeed of policy; when he entered parliament he was anxious to avoid «pledges which may hereafter fetter a man»19. At the 1860 Southwark byelection, which he won, he claimed to be a «radical» (as opposed to a Liberal party man) and an «independent member» who would give a general support to Palmerston but would defend popular liberties at home and abroad in the tradition of the former MP, the naval patriot Charles Napier20. For such men the virtuousness of the national tribune, standing on a history of transparent public service, was to be contrasted with the corruption of those who bought votes by wooing vested interests. On defeating the rich local wharfinger George Scovell, Layard claimed this as a victory for «public interests» and the «working man» against forces which were already too powerful in parliament: it must be more than «an asylum for superannuated capitalists»21. Such a position gave Layard licence to speak out on issues on which he claimed expertise, and he was fortunate that the dominant issue in parliament in his first four years as an MP was the Eastern question and especially the of 1854-1856. As a result, though he was offered a couple of diplomatic posts, he decided to reject them, despite returning to Constantinople in spring 1853 in an attempt to help Canning’s diplomacy – which added to his authority in the Commons. In fact, his maiden speech of August 1853 (like most of his subsequent

17 «Buckinghamshire Advertiser», 19 June 1852; «Daily News», 3 May 1852. 18 «Times», 11 December 1863. 19 A.H. Layard, Autobiography and letters from his childhood until his appointment as H.M. Ambassador at Madrid, II, edited by W.N. Bruce, London 1903, p. 198. 20 see e.g. «Morning Chronicle», 24 November 1860. He had used similar phrases in speeches at the 1857 and 1859 elections. 21 «Morning Chronicle», 13 December 1860. Henry Layard and the British Parliament 163 ones) contained as much passion and prejudice as knowledge, since it was driven by dislike of Prime Minister Aberdeen, the man who as Foreign Secretary had refused to give him a diplomatic post, had rejected the Serbian policy that he had advocated, and had belittled Canning’s warnings about Russia. Layard criticised Aberdeen for his peace- mongering at the expense of national interests, invoking his behaviour over in 1843 to show the foolishness of his appeasement of Russia. He warned that this policy would not just have severe consequences for British power in the Ottoman Empire but would also make the government of India «a purely military tenure», rendering impossible the liberalising reforms of the ‘Young India’ parliamentary group which he supported22. When the Crimean War broke out in March 1854, Layard bitterly attacked Aberdeen’s long history of appeasing Russia and the damage that this had done to effective preparation for war23. In the autumn he visited the Crimean battle zone and reported back on the distress and neglect of the ordinary soldiers. In January 1855 he again condemned military administration, in the discussion on Roebuck’s motion for a select committee to inquire into the state of the army, for which he voted, and which led to Aberdeen’s resignation24. When Palmerston became Prime Minister in early 1855 there was considerable demand for Layard to be made a War Office minister, but the queen and Gladstone both opposed this because of his attacks on Aberdeen and Admiral Dundas of the Black Sea fleet. Palmerston offered him a junior post at the Ordnance, which he refused on the principle that he had no confidence in the Peelite members of the government and no knowledge of the Ordnance, later justifying this refusal with the cry that became his catchphrase: «the right men in the right places». The same happened soon afterwards when Palmerston offered him the Under- Secretaryship at the Colonial Office25. In parliament, he criticised the degree of continuity between the old and new governments, pointing to an excess of aristocrats and bureaucrats, and not enough new men

22 Hansard, Vol. 129, pp. 1769-1780, 16 August 1853. 23 Ibid., Vol. 132, pp. 217-243, 31 March 1854. 24 Ibid., Vol. 136, pp. 1026-1038, 26 January 1855. 25 «Times», 1 March 1855; G. Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, London 1963, pp. 261-262. 164 Jonathan P. Parry of energy26. This attack on family and party dominance – a reversion to an older radical style of politics – caught the public mood, leading to the formation of the Administrative Reform Association in May27. Unfortunately his temper led him into personal attacks on individuals which offended against the code of parliamentary gentlemanliness. At a meeting on a clipper ship at Liverpool on 21 April, when he was widely reported to be drunk, he claimed that the army Commander- in-Chief Lord Hardinge was too old and «utterly unable» to discharge his duties, that his son and other aristocrats had benefited unfairly from the promotion system, and that Palmerston had betrayed his promise by falling back on «all the old Whig scum»28. When challenged about this speech in parliament on 27 April, despite a fever (from recurrence of malaria), he continued to detail individual abuses of the patronage system and claimed that «the people of England are in no temper to tolerate the approximation to what I may call “gross jobs”»29. He drew down a storm of criticism, led by Palmerston and the establishment press, but also great newspaper acclaim: the «Morning Advertiser» spoke for many in calling him «emphatically the man of the people»30. He received a mountain of supportive letters and felt that he had «the spirit of England at his back»31.

At this point Layard seemed a genuinely subversive figure, but he quickly abandoned that role, perhaps because of his health problems or nerves, but more likely because he only wanted to be a diplomatic- military expert. He left the administrative reform movement to others, while warning that the war could not be properly won without such an overhaul. He hoped that it would be long and successful enough to recast European politics – though by 1856 he reluctantly accepted

26 Hansard, Vol. 136, pp. 1514-1530, 19 February 1855; «Times», 20 February 1855. 27 O. Anderson, The Janus Face of Mid-Nineteenth-Century English Radicalism: The Administrative Reform Association of 1855, «Victorian Studies», 8 (1964-1965), pp. 231- 242. 28 Mr Layard’s (M.P.) speech at the grand banquet in Liverpool, broadsheet, in Layard papers, Add MSS 58174, fol. 180. 29 Hansard, Vol. 137, pp. 1885-1890. 30 3 May 1855. 31 Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, pp. 273-274. Henry Layard and the British Parliament 165 that peace was the only sensible policy32. Nonetheless, his popularity among press and public continued to benefit from his perceived role as ‘champion of the soldiers’ in the Crimea33. Instead in the parliamentary session of 1856 he took up a fresh subject on which he could claim exceptional knowledge: England’s threats to Persia, and particularly the risk of an attack on her south-west provinces, where he had lived in 1840-1842. In March he predicted that the aggressive behaviour of the British minister at Tehran would drive Persia into the hands of Russia and prompt a costly, unprincipled and unnecessary war that would «crush» the Indian taxpayer and endanger Britain’s Indian rule34. In February and March 1857 Layard failed four times to force Palmerston to grant a debate on what had now become the Persian war, and the treaty that was being drawn up to end it, despite asking on 6 March for all the papers on the background to the war to be produced35. Three days earlier he voted with Liberals who opposed the government’s bombastic China policy, defeating it and forcing a general election. In his election address at Aylesbury he compared the government’s arrogance on Persia and on China, founded in both cases on the mistaken view that in dealing with «Eastern nations» Britain was «not bound by the same laws of right and wrong that govern the relations of Christian States»36. Layard’s point here went to the heart of British international policy. The Crimean War had been fought to force Russia and Austria – and also the Sultan – to accept that the Ottoman Empire should be brought within the regime of international law, and that it should be upheld as long as it practised good government itself. For Layard it was Britain’s role, and interest, to extend these principles throughout the world. For Britain herself not to abide by them was hypocritical and potentially disastrous. However Layard was defeated by the chauvinist mood that Palmerston summoned up at this election. Once more he seemed an

32 Hansard, Vol. 141, pp. 1756-1766, pp. 2071-2086, 29 April, 5 May 1856; «Buckinghamshire Advertiser», 26 July 1856. 33 see e.g. «Morning Chronicle», 24 November 1860. 34 Hansard, Vol. 140, pp. 1713-1721, 3 March 1856. 35 Ibid., Vol. 144, pp. 1945-1946, 6 March 1857. See A.H. Layard, Persia, «Quarterly Review», 101 (April 1857), p. 537. 36 election address, «Times», 16 March 1857. 166 Jonathan P. Parry outsider. These events were closely followed by the Indian Mutiny, which Layard viewed as a consequence of recent British misgovernment. His response was once again to travel, to experience post-Mutiny India for himself in 1857-1858, the better to be able to pronounce on it when he got back to parliament. At York at the 1859 election he claimed that the British had «over-taxed the [Indians], and treated them as brute beasts»37. In fact, by the time that he returned to the Commons at the beginning of the 1861 session the Mutiny had been suppressed, modest changes had been made to government, and stability seemed to have returned; there was no appetite to discuss the wrongs of British administration. There was much more interest in the Italian Risorgimento, on which issue, indeed, Palmerston’s Liberal government had been formed in 1859. Layard was again in luck, for no subject was more congenial to him. He had lived in Florence as a child, visited the country every summer to collect art, knew Cavour and other liberals, and shared their animus against France, Austria and the pope. In 1861 he spoke on various foreign policy topics: the «Morning Post» remarked on his «immense superiority in debate» over nearly all other MPs on Italian and Ottoman issues38. It was no surprise that when Russell, the Foreign Secretary, went to the House of Lords at the end of the 1861 session, Palmerston countered very strong opposition from the queen and made Layard Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office charged with defending the government’s foreign policy to the Commons. He held this post under Palmerston and Russell until the latter’s government fell in 1866. He particularly relished sparring with opposition Irish Catholic and Conservative MPs whenever they raised the state of Italy. In defending government policy in 1862 and 1863, he celebrated the overthrow of papal power as «a swarm of noxious vermin», a «horrible priestly tyranny» from which it would naturally take Italy some time to recover39. In June 1862, during a debate on Ottoman finance, Layard took a sharp detour to attack Irish MPs, leading one of them to complain

37 «York Herald», 16 April 1859. 38 «Morning Post», 1 August 1861. 39 Hansard, Vol. 166, pp. 875-910, 11 April 1862; Vol. 170, pp. 1412-1421, 8 May 1863. Henry Layard and the British Parliament 167 that he had, «very unnecessarily and mischievously, said everything he could to incense and annoy the Roman Catholic Members of this House»40. His passion sometimes erupted in discussing other parts of the world as well: in two speeches of 1862 he compared the Chinese Taiping rebels to a «flight of locusts» and «a band of ruthless marauders intent on murder, rapine, and pillage», when justifying the government’s opposition to them41.

In the 1860s, like many MPs, Layard also addressed his constituents annually. He spoke straightforwardly, humorously and with apparent honesty about his ministerial conduct. This direct and unpretentious approach was widely praised, making the «Daily Telegraph» remark, in December 1864, that it was now possible to «be at once a placeman and a patriot» – uniting public service with the traditional radical critique of the politics of «Old Corruption»42. That rather old-fashioned encomium would have pleased Layard, because he attached great importance to both these identities. He was an old-school radical in the sense of opposing socially exclusive regimes, but he was also instinctively more interested in government than in popular speaking for its own sake. Though he worked with the Cobdenites in opposition to the government’s Persian and Chinese policy in 1856- 1857, he distrusted the whole Manchester school approach, both for its advocacy of a democratising parliamentary reform and for its attack on conventional diplomacy, which he thought was one of the essential weapons of a great power. He tried so hard to be a MP because he wanted to be a minister, and he thought, rationally enough, that the way to become a minister was to display expertise in key areas of policy. His expertise lay in foreign policy and particularly in the way that Britain could advance her global interests by bringing better government to eastern peoples. His ministerial career was geared entirely to that end. His rejection of junior office in other departments in 1855 was telling: he really seems to have believed that to take up a different portfolio

40 Ibid., Vol. 167, pp. 823-834, p. 842, 20 June 1862. 41 Ibid., Vol. 165, pp. 1806-1815, 18 March 1862; Vol. 168, pp. 52-63, 8 July 1862. 42 «Daily Telegraph», 5 December 1864; see also «Times», 23 November 1861; «Daily News», 23 November 1861. 168 Jonathan P. Parry of interests would be an inappropriate step, though it was par for the course for any aspiring politician. In other words, Layard’s conception of expertise was extremely specialised. It is superficially tempting to see him as a Benthamite, in that he believed in useful knowledge, in education and in rational government, and had often mixed with Bloomsbury intellectuals in his uncle’s house in the 1830s. However he completely lacked the Benthamites’ breadth of vision of the remit of government. He had no desire to devise policies on education, or the criminal law, or indeed any other domestic topic. He thought overwhelmingly in terms of global strategy and ethics. Layard’s peculiar relation to British politics was borne out by his response to the events of 1866-1868. By the time the Russell government fell in June 1866, he was one of the most senior ministers outside the cabinet. He was also «a man of the people», MP for a popular constituency, and a well-known public figure. He expected promotion to cabinet when the Liberals returned to office. But his range of interests was still very narrow, and almost entirely confined to foreign affairs. It was inevitable that a representative of his constituency would vote for further parliamentary reform in 1866-1867, which he did consistently, but he rarely spoke on the topic. On becoming Prime Minister in December 1868, Gladstone appointed him First Commissioner of Works, outside the cabinet, responsible for government buildings and policy towards museums and galleries. Though Layard expected more seniority, it was an intelligent move: if he had any expertise on domestic issues it was on artistic and architectural matters. Unfortunately he soon discovered that the Treasury, headed by Gladstone and Robert Lowe, had no intention of allowing him freedom to improve metropolitan public architecture. After rows with the economising junior Treasury minister A.S. Ayrton, it was thought best all round for Layard to be removed from domestic politics and given a diplomatic posting to Madrid43. In exile there in 1873, he bemoaned the state of English political life. A man could no longer «have his own way – whether in office or out of it». His abilities would go unrecognised if they do «not run him

43 M.H. Port, A Contrast in Styles at the Office of Works: Layard and Ayrton: Aesthete and Economist, «Historical Journal», 27 (1984), pp. 151-176. Henry Layard and the British Parliament 169 in the accepted groove», or if he did not accept being «trammelled by […] constituents or […] colleagues». He complained at the increasing activity of pressure groups demanding pledges to vote for particular domestic crotchets, especially on religious and educational policy44. This was really a complaint at the emergence of a much more disciplined party system, and pressure both from party leaders and constituency activists to diminish the free action of MPs, in pursuit of an organised domestic agenda. Layard’s ideal of an independently-minded MP was coming to be a historical curiosity; indeed that was the lesson of his own life-story. Though the electors of Southwark thought in 1860 that they were getting another Charles Napier, who would stand up for the common man against elite misgovernment, within a year Layard had actually joined the government. There was no longer much need for virtuous crusades for popular rights against a corrupt political establishment, and even less so after the democratisation of the 1867 Reform Act45. Ironically, the wartime campaign against ministerial incompetence in 1855 was practically the last of these crusades, and Layard himself had briefly fronted it, only to pull out because he felt himself unsuited to it. At that point, Layard realised that his preference was to be a policy-maker, not a populist, but only in the foreign policy sphere. This, fortunately for him, was unusually prominent for a decade after 1853, obscuring for a time how specialised his expertise actually was. Layard’s parliamentary career was superficially that of a radical, but disguised very traditional instincts. Perhaps the clearest example of this was his departure from the Commons for Madrid in 1869. Layard’s career switch to a European embassy resembled the behaviour of his old boss at Constantinople, Stratford Canning, after the 1832 Reform Act. Canning had hoped for a glittering future in British politics, like his cousin and mentor George, and in 1828-1832 found two rotten borough seats from which to bid for domestic fame, unobstructed by

44 to Gregory, quoted in J.P. Parry, Democracy and Religion: Gladstone and the Liberal Party, 1867-1875, Cambridge 1986, pp.121, 408-409. 45 J. Parry, The Decline of Institutional Reform in Nineteenth-Century Britain, in Structures and transformations in modern British history, edited by D. Feldman - J. Lawrence, Cambridge 2011, pp. 164-86. 170 Jonathan P. Parry vulgar popular pressure. Unfortunately the advent of a more open politics in 1832 showed that he lacked the speaking skills necessary to succeed in parliament46. An embassy abroad allowed his ego greater freedom of action and initiative, though he still hoped that a high reputation there might open some great office of state to him. Similarly, Layard’s move into diplomacy was not an odd diversion from a successful domestic career, but the only logical remaining step towards his original aim of some high international representative office. He realised, as Canning had previously, that the British House of Commons, in an insular era of parliamentary reform, was not a good launchpad for such a role. Layard, lacking Canning’s single-minded pertinacity, never had as coherent an idea of his ultimate preferred position. He was fortunate to leave Madrid in 1877 to return to the Constantinople embassy that had made Canning’s name. This was a highly congenial promotion which thrust him into dramatic events. Even so, after three years there, Gladstone terminated his career. Canning’s thwarted final ambition, after Constantinople, would have been an imperial viceroyalty or similar role. Layard, by contrast, who for years had been more at home with men of culture than with politicians, would have preferred the altogether more civilised role of Ambassador to the young Italian state, amidst the inspiring art and architecture of Rome.

46 See P. Salmon - H. Spencer, Canning, Stratford, in The History of Parliament: the House of Commons 1820-1832, edited by D.R. Fisher, Cambridge 2009 and online. Maria Stella Florio

Rawdon Brown and Henry Layard in Venice

Abstract In 1833, at the age of twenty-seven, Rawdon Brown arrived in Venice for a short visit and stayed there fifty years. When he died, in 1883, the Municipality allowed his coffin to be wrapped in St Mark’s banner in acknowledgment of his lifelong dedication to the city and its history. Yet very little is known about his private life and the reason why he came to Venice in the first place. Further research into his background may thus prove useful to this end, while at the same time putting into perspective the contrasts and similarities between his generation and that of Henry Layard as they succeeded one another in 19th century Venice.

Rawdon Brown may not be a household name like Layard today, yet for several decades during the 19th century he was the most famous Englishman in Venice, arriving as he did soon after Byron had left it and long before Layard settled in, by which time Rawdon Brown was old enough to be worrying about his grave. He has, however, been brought again to the fore by a revival led by John Law and crowned by the publication in 2005 of what still is the reference book on Rawdon Brown1. He had come to Venice in 1833 as a young man of twenty-seven and stayed on fifty years. Of a sociable and friendly disposition, he was also a very private man and left instructions that his personal papers be destroyed after his death. Thus not much is known about him as a person before his arrival in Venice, and even then not from the very beginning, as there was no such thing as an English community then.

1 R.A. Griffiths - J.E. Law, eds., Rawdon Brown and the Anglo-Venetian Relationship, Stroud 2005. 172 Maria Stella Florio

Indeed, the Anglo-Saxons resident there at the time were few, with reasons of their own for wanting to make themselves scarce in England and to avoid their countrymen abroad2. No such shadows surround Rawdon Brown’s arrival, though one of the questions most frequently asked and still open is, why did he come to Venice in the first place? There is of course, as the book relates, the story Rawdon Brown himself liked to tell, that he had come to Venice on a quest for the Mowbray Stone, the tombstone of the Duke of Norfolk that Shakespeare says was banished from England, retired to Venice, and died and was buried there. This is how, he later explained, he had become increasingly interested in the history of Venice. And in fact it is for his archival researches that Rawdon Brown’s name began to make itself known. First of all, he was the man who discovered Marin Sanudo’s Renaissance diaries, in the sense that he made them known to the world by writing a biography of Sanudo himself, which eventually led to the publication of all fifty-eight volumes of the diaries. He then conceived a monumental project: to account for every document relating to England present in the Venetian archives. He published six volumes of them in his lifetime, covering documents from the year 1202 to 1558; there are now thirty- eight, going under the name of Calendar of State Papers, Venice3. But the book also tells of his passion for all things relating to the history of Venice, a great variety of objects, which often meant saving them from dispersion or destruction. And then there was his kindness, hospitality, and generosity towards all visitors to Venice and his knowledge of the city which became legendary, so that when Queen Victoria’s youngest son Prince Leopold visited Venice in 1876, Rawdon Brown was asked to show him around. But as to his story of the Mowbray Stone, scholars in the book feel it does not ring true. Thus it is worth going briefly into it again and trying to explore Rawdon Brown’s background in England further, before joining him again in Venice for his friendship with Layard and his final years.

2 J. Pemble, Venice Rediscovered, Oxford 1995, p. 19. 3 Calendar of State Papers Relating to English Affairs in the Archives of Venice, Vols. 1-6, edited by R. Brown; Vol. 7, edited by R. Brown - G. Cavendish - Bentinck; Vols. 8-12, edited by H.F. Brown; Vols. 13-38, edited by A.B. Hinds, Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, London 1864-1947, British History Online (hereafter BHO) (last accessed 30/03/2020). Rawdon Brown and Henry Layard in Venice 173

Of Thomas Mowbray, Shakespeare in Richard II says that he «retired himself / To Italy; and there at Venice gave / His body to that pleasant country’s earth»4, and Rawdon Brown liked to tell that he had come to Venice «with these verses» in his head, «inflamed with curiosity» to find Mowbray’s tomb5. And he did find it, in a way. First he found confirmation in Sanudo’s diaries that Mowbray had indeed been buried in Venice in 1399, then years later he located the actual «monument that had marked his grave» in the courtyard of the Ducal Palace6, identified it as Mowbray’s tombstone – wrongly, according to Sarah Quill7 – secretly removed it and finally smuggled it to Mowbray’s descendants in England. If scholars have reservations it is because Rawdon Brown may well have become interested in the Mowbray Stone after arriving in Venice, as John Law suggests8. This of course cannot be ruled out. And yet it may be argued that he really did come to Venice with Shakespeare’s lines in his head, but the reason is not so much Shakespeare as Byron, because Byron quotes those very same lines in 1819 in a letter to John Murray II. We know Byron had left England under a cloud and had exiled himself to Venice, meaning never to go back to England, not even as a dead man: «I would not even feed the worms, if I could help it», he writes to Murray, and continues: «So, as Shakespeare says of Mowbray», who had died at Venice, that he «gave / His body to that pleasant country’s earth», to conclude with the wish to be buried «in the foreigners’ burial ground at the Lido»9. Rawdon Brown in fact must have been familiar with this letter before leaving for Venice because it had been published three years previously, in the 1830 collection of Byron’s letters edited by Thomas Moore. At any rate,

4 W. Shakespeare, Richard II, Act IV, Scene 1, lines 96-98. 5 C.E. Norton, Rawdon Brown and the Grave of ‘Banished Norfolk’, «The Atlantic Monthly», 63, 380 (June 1889), pp. 740-744 (in particular at pp. 742, 741). Cf. (last accessed 30/03/2020). 6 Ibid., p. 742. 7 S. Quill, Rawdon Brown and the ‘Mowbray Stone’, in Griffiths-Law, eds., Rawdon Brown and the Anglo-Venetian, pp. 99-110, at p. 104. 8 J.E. Law, “Grubbing in the Archives”: Rawdon Brown and Venetian sources, in Griffiths-Law, eds., Rawdon Brown and the Anglo-Venetian, pp. 127-148, at p. 128. 9 G. Byron to J. Murray, Bologna, 7 June 1819. G. Byron, Letters and Journals of Lord Byron, edited by T. Moore, London 1830. 174 Maria Stella Florio two copies of this edition are among the some four hundred volumes Rawdon Brown bequeathed to the Marciana Library; he also had subsequent editions of it as well as two sets of Byron’s complete works, plus spare copies of Manfred and Don Juan, all vastly annotated. This does not imply Rawdon Brown was obsessed with Byron, but Byron’s influence on his own generation and the next, especially with regard to Venice, cannot be underestimated. Ruskin said it openly: «My Venice, like Turner’s, had been chiefly created for us by Byron»10. Also the England that Rawdon Brown left in 1833 was, like Byron’s, Regency England, the England of Jane Austen and of the famous Regency wits, foremost among them Samuel Rogers, banker-poet, art collector, patron of the arts, with his celebrated breakfasts: an invitation there meant entry into London cultured society and success. An 1815 print portraying an imaginary reunion of celebrities there shows Rogers in the middle with Byron on his right11. Already a legend at the time, Byron would die nine years later, when Rawdon Brown was eighteen. He was born in London in 1806, the second child of Hugh William Brown and Anna Eliza Lubbock and christened Rawdon Lubbock Brown. He was therefore also given his mother’s family name and in fact, from the very start, Rawdon Brown’s family seems to have consisted essentially of his Lubbock relations. He was born in the house of his mother’s uncle, John Lubbock, but the family itself originated in Norfolk, at Lammas from where John had been sent to London to learn business in a banking house. He later became a partner there, married his partner’s daughter and was created a baronet (1806). Since he had no issue, at his death the title passed on by special remainder to the son of his brother William, John William, who had joined his uncle’s London bank and married Mary Entwistle (1799), while his sister Eliza married Hugh William Brown (1801). Very little is known about Rawdon’s father; he makes, however, an appearance in the reminiscences of a contemporary of his, Mary Entwistle’s sister Frances, later Mrs Bury. She recalled him a bit cattily since apparently one of

10 J. Ruskin, The Works of John Ruskin, Vol. 35 (Praeterita and Dilecta), edited by E.T. Cook - A. Wedderburn, London 1908, p. 295. Cf. (last accessed 30/03/2020). 11 london, Victoria and Albert Museum, Breakfast at Samuel Rogers’s Residence 1815, print by Charles Mottram after James W.E. Doyle. Rawdon Brown and Henry Layard in Venice 175 their brothers had «made love» to Eliza Lubbock, «who was said to have encouraged & accepted his addresses & then to have “thrown him over” for a man with the Plebeian name of Brown». He is then described as «an individual with a fair exterior and an empty head», who «had failed in his original business» and «disappeared from the scene, leaving a widow and family» who nonetheless, according to this source, despite their slender means never forgot «they had a baronetcy (tho’ only a city one) in the family»12. Indeed, the Lubbocks were an increasingly distinguished family: Rawdon’s cousin John William (3rd Bart), was not only a banker but also a mathematician, an astronomer and a close friend of Charles Darwin’s, while his son John, Rawdon’s nephew, would be made 1st Baron Avebury in 1900. Not only a banker in the family bank, he was also involved with archaeology, coining the terms «palaeolithic» and «neolithic», and as an MP he enacted, among others, the Ancient Monuments Act (1882) and the Bank Holidays Act (1871), while being an amateur biologist besides. Eliza’s financial situation, however, always remained precarious, though various amounts of money were settled on her and her children during her lifetime through trusts established by the wills of her father, her uncle and her uncle’s wife13. As to the impression given by the memoirs above, that her husband had deserted them, Hugh William was still living with his family when he died, in the winter of 1844, at St Leonard on Sea14. There the Dowager Lady Lubbock had moved with Eliza, her husband and one of their daughters, Emma, having left the London house sometime after her own husband’s death. This house

12 H.T. Bury, Memoirs of an ordinary family, 1860, contributed by Eric Reginald Lubbock, Lord Avebury, May 2005, Entwistle Family History Association, p. 2. Cf. (last accessed 30/03/2020). 13 London, The National Archives, Records of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, Wills and probate, PROB 11/1679/21, Will of William Lubbock of Lammas, Norfolk, 19 June 1819, proved 3 Dec. 1823; PROB 11/1578/370, Will of John Lubbock of Saint James’s Place, Middlesex, 25 March 1814, proved 19 March 1816; PROB 11/2054/275, Will of Lady Elizabeth Christiana Lubbock, Widow of Saint Leonard on the Sea, Sussex, 6 Sept. 1841, proved 3 April 1847. 14 London, The Royal Society (hereafter RS), Papers of Sir John William Lubbock, LUB/6/12/B. 538, H. W. Brown to Sir J. W. Lubbock, St Leonard on Sea, 9 Aug. 1844. District of Hastings, Civil Registration Index, Deaths, Dec. 1844: H.W. Brown, Vol. 7, p. 277. 176 Maria Stella Florio

Sir John himself had built in St. James’s Place in front of Green Park in 1802. At first he had bought, together with a friend, a large house there with the idea of making it into two residences, which turned out to be unfeasible. Thus they had it pulled down and built two new houses on the site, one each: No. 23 St. James’s Place was Sir John’s; No. 22 (1803) was that of his friend, Samuel Rogers15. There on the ground-floor was the famous breakfast room with the bow-window overlooking the Park and Buckingham Palace across it (Byron, incidentally, lived round the corner from them, at No. 8 St James’s Street). Both houses were damaged in the Blitz and demolished in the 1960s. Rogers, however, lived in his for fifty years and so three generations of visiting celebrities have left descriptions of the house itself and his art collections there. Now, John Law had already pointed to Samuel Rogers, together with Byron, as a possible literary influence on Rawdon Brown16. All the more confidently his influence can be assumed now that we know that Rawdon Brown actually grew up with Rogers as a long-standing family friend and next-door neighbour. But Rogers’ influence was first of all that of a man of taste: he exerted it on the entire nation in various public capacities but most particularly by his last and very successful book, Italy (1830). This was a deluxe edition with engravings by Prout, Stothard and Turner, and in fact this was the book Ruskin received on his thirteenth birthday, later ascribing to it «the entire direction of my life’s energies»17. But Rogers was also a Regency wit, a malicious one at times, and this was very much in the spirit of the times in which Rawdon Brown grew up. In fact he shared this attitude for clever satire with his great friend and contemporary Edward Cheney, while young Ruskin resented it; he considered them «men of the world», that is, not serious, though acknowledging they were «both as good-natured as can be»18. And in truth so was Rogers, always generous with encouragement and financial assistance. Thus, to the young man he had seen growing

15 St. James’s Place, in Survey of London, British History Online, Vols. 29-30, Part 1, edited by F.H.W. Sheppard, London 1960, pp. 511, 541, § 151. 16 Law, Grubbing in the Archives, p. 140 n. 5. 17 Ruskin, Works, Vol. 35, p. 29. 18 J. Ruskin to his father, Venice 11 Oct. [1851], in C. Gamble, John Ruskin, Henry James and the Shropshire Lads, London 2008, pp. 94-95, quoting from Ruskin’s Letters from Venice 1851-1852, edited by J.L. Bradley, New Haven - London 1955. Rawdon Brown and Henry Layard in Venice 177 up next door Rogers may at the very least have provided the letters of introduction he came to Venice with. Indeed, it seems there was nothing much for young Rawdon to do in England. He later said he had been «debarred from public life», possibly because of his lisp, as it was then inferred19; though it may also have been on account of his father’s debts, still embarrassing his mother after her husband’s death20, if not of his own, as it has also been suggested21. As it is, and whether or not he actually did travel to Venice on a quest of the Mowbray Stone, Venice was the making of him. But he never used the name “Lubbock” there, not even on his tombstone.

Layard was even younger than Brown when he left London in 1839 to go out East, passing through Venice briefly on the way. Rawdon Brown was living at the Ca’ Dario at the time and had just published his biography of Sanudo. They did not meet then but some twenty years later, in the autumn of 1860, when Layard spent a fortnight in Venice. Their correspondence began soon afterwards in 186122. Rawdon Brown was the foremost Englishman in Venice at the time. His long absence from England, however, despite his many good and influential friends there, had its drawbacks. For some time already he had been trying to convince the British government of the importance of his project about what was to become the Calendar of State Papers, Venice, and had already brought attention to it with a book, Four Years at the Court of Henry VIII (1854), based on the dispatches of the Venetian ambassador in London at the court of Henry VIII. This had interested Palmerston and Layard in particular. After all, the terms “archive” and “archaeology” have the same root. So, it was Layard, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, who in 1862 finally convinced the government to sponsor the publication of the Calendars and to appoint Rawdon Brown to the

19 R.A. Griffiths, From private enterprise to public service: Rawdon Brown and the Venetian Archives, in Griffiths-Law, eds., Rawdon Brown and the Anglo-Venetian, pp. 73- 97, at pp. 75, 89-90, quoting from J.M. Read’s notes of a visit to R. Brown in Aug. 1875. 20 rs, LUB/6/3/B. 491, A. E. Brown to J. W. Lubbock, St Leonard on Sea, 9 Mar. 1845. 21 R.A. Griffiths, From private enterprise, p. 75. 22 london, British Library (hereafter BL), Layard Papers, Add MSS 38987-39120 passim. The letters from R. Brown to A.H. Layard (1861-1883) are to be published soon. 178 Maria Stella Florio job. Equally important, later on, it was again Layard who ensured that Rawdon Brown’s work be continued after his death by having Horatio Brown (no relation) appointed to the task. Rawdon Brown had seen the sixth volume of the Calendars published (1881). The seventh volume (1890) came out posthumously with the name of his friend Cavendish- Bentinck as joint-editor; after this, there is rarely an acknowledgement of Rawdon Brown’s work, though all the volumes – the last one being No. 38 (1947), with documents up to the year 1675 – were entirely compiled with the material that he had found and edited, and with enough of his notes left to continue the project23. In his turn, Rawdon Brown was always happy to share his historical expertise and insights with Layard, as in the case of Sir Henry’s legendary acquisition of Bellini’s Mehemet II24, or of a Bonifacio de’ Pitati25. But he was also able to extend to Layard the advantage of a circle of friends and acquaintances as could only be acquired after a residence in Venice of almost thirty years. Standing out from the others, however, were the Malcolm brothers, John and Alexander, the earliest friends he had made there and his dearest, Alexander Malcolm being actually «the man he liked best in Venice»26. They were also the steadiest, since by then even Edward Cheney only visited occasionally after dismantling his Venice house in 185227. Things changed, however, and the English began visiting in increasing numbers once the unification ofV enice to Italy was accomplished in 1866. Layard had worked actively towards this and in November of that year stayed long in Venice to witness the actual handover of the

23 S. Mitchell, “Swimming in a Gondola”: The Rawdon Brown Archive in the National Archives at Kew, in Griffiths-Law, eds., Rawdon Brown and the Anglo-Venetian, pp. 111- 125, at pp. 115-6, 123 n. 46. Sadly, a recent enquiry reveals it is to remain unachieved (BHO, Institute of Historical Research, email 14 Nov. 2017). 24 BL, Add MS 38992, fol. 257v, R. Brown to H. Layard, 1 Mar. 1866. 25 C. Riva, La collezione Layard nel catalogo dattiloscritto 1896, «Predella. Journal of Visual Arts», 35 (2014), pp. 53-78, at p. 61. 26 e. Eastlake to H. Layard, 29 Oct. 1876, in The Letters of Elizabeth Rigby, Lady Eastlake, edited by J. Sheldon, Liverpool 2009, p. 424. 27 e. Ruskin to her mother, Venice 26 Apr. (1852), in M. Lutyens, Effie in Venice, London 1965, p. 301. Rawdon Brown and Henry Layard in Venice 179 city28. And as soon as the treaty was signed he entered into the famous association with Antonio Salviati that would split up ten years later, as will be discussed elsewhere. As it is, Layard’s glass-making venture may be said to be the harbinger of the new generation of «resident- strangers», described as «more commercial, financial and conventionally philanthropic», that would settle in Venice in the 1880s29. The Layards themselves in fact took up a more permanent residence at Ca’ Capello only in 1880, upon Sir Henry’s retirement, though the house had been bought in 1874. Layard was engaged as British Ambassador at Madrid at the time, but since 1869 he and his newly-wed wife Enid had been visiting Venice almost every year. When they saw it, towards the end of their fourth visit, things moved really fast. «Went to Mr Malcolm», Lady Layard wrote in her journal, «& he showed us a house belonging to him which is to be sold the ‘Ca’ Capello’ which we admired very much». Then two days later: «We went to see Ca’ Capello again & agreed to [meet] Mr Brown there – we think of buying the house». And the next day they left, to return the following year and walk straight into it30. The sale had taken place on 31 October 1874. Acting for Layard, by power of attorney executed at the Italian Consulate at Madrid on 1 October, was former British Consul in Venice Edward Valentine. The sellers were John and Alexander Malcolm and the price agreed amounted to It. L. 72.50031. The Malcolm brothers themselves had only recently acquired the property32. It used to belong to an Englishman, Owen Edward Williams, who first rented (1835) and then bought it (1844) for Aust. L. 42.000 from its joint owners Chiarabba and Zanon33, and had

28 a.H. Layard to his aunt Mrs Sara Austen, 14 Sept. 1866; 14 Oct. 1866; 10 Nov. 1866, in A.H. Layard, Autobiography and Letters from his Childhood until his Appointment as H.M. Ambassador at Madrid, London 1903, pp. 232-235. 29 J. Pemble, The Resident Strangers in Nineteenth-Century Venice, in Griffiths-Law, eds., Rawdon Brown and the Anglo-Venetian, pp. 43-54, at p. 51. 30 Lady Layard’s Journal, entries Aug. 25, 27, 1874; Jun. 4, 1875 (last accessed 30/03/2020). 31 Venezia, Archivio di Stato (hereafter ASVe), Notarile, II serie, b. 2371, notaio Angelo Pasini, Rep. 4801, Reg. 2306, Layard’s purchase deed of 31 Oct. 1874. 32 ASVe, Notarile II Serie, b. 3616, notaio Antonio De Toni (copie), Rep. 7910, Reg. 866, Malcolms’ purchase deed of 24 May 1873. 33 ASVe, Notarile II Serie, b. 1082, notaio Antonio Santibusca, Reg. 25861, Williams’ purchase deed of 20 Nov. 1844. 180 Maria Stella Florio died there on 14 August 1871. Whereafter, in the autumn of that year, his cousin and testamentary heir Thomas Randall Wheatly had given a power of attorney to the then British Consul in Venice Edward Valentine, through whom the Malcolm brothers bought the place in 1873 for It. L. 50.00034. It was then rented out to the Hurtados, so it was only after they left that what needed to be done in anticipation of the Layards’ return was done, Rawdon Brown keeping in close consultation with Alexander Malcolm. The latter in fact carried the organizational brunt of the work, from moving the Hurtados’ furniture out and the Layards’ in to choosing «the plants best suited to the conservatory»35. Ca’ Capello was thus to become the leading salon in Venice, not only on account of its owners but also of their art collection there36. Unsurprisingly, it made its way into guidebooks37. This, however, was no novelty for the distinguished palazzo: Ca’ Capello was already alluded to by Lecomte in 1844 for housing the «splendid» collection of an «English gentleman»38 – unnamed, but arguably its previous owner Owen Williams – while in its time it had been known for those of the Capellos themselves, not least that of Antonio II Capello (d. 1747)39. Rawdon Brown too was an art collector but of a different kind. If his intellectual curiosity led him to visit antique dealers and surround

34 a certified copy of Wheatly’s power of attorney toV alentine, executed on 21 Nov. 1871 (notaio Angelo Pasini, Rep. 4076, Reg. 87), is in ASVe, Notarile II Serie, b. 3482, notaio Antonio De Toni, ‘Anno 1873, 1 maggio-30 luglio’, as exhibit (A) to the Malcolms’ purchase deed, above. 35 BL, Add MS 39008, fol. 71, R. Brown to H. Layard, Venice, 30 Apr. 1875. 36 I. Favaretto, La collezione Layard: storia, formazione e vicende, in Austen Henry Layard tra l’Oriente e Venezia, Symposium Internazionale, Venezia 26-28 ottobre 1983, edited by F.M. Fales - B.J. Hickey, Rome 1987, pp. 227-236; R. Mamoli Zorzi, Enid e Henry Austen Layard. Collezionismo e mondanità a Palazzo Cappello, in Personaggi stravaganti a Venezia tra ’800 e ’900, edited by F. Bisutti - M. Celotti, Crocetta del Montello 2010, pp. 75-96. 37 C. Riva, An Art World Insider: Austen Henry Layard and the Nineteenth-Century European Art Trade, «Journal for Art Market Studies», 2 (2018), pp. 1-22, at p. 19. 38 J. Lecomte, Venise ou Coup-d’oeil littéraire, artistique, historique, poétique et pittoresque, sur les monuments et les curiosités de cette cité, Paris 1844, p. 303; Venezia o colpo d’occhio letterario, Venice 1844 (Italian translation), p. 263. 39 C.A. Levi, Le collezioni veneziane d’arte e d’antichità dal secolo XIV ai nostri giorni, Venice 1900, I, p. LIV; II, pp. 119-219. Rawdon Brown and Henry Layard in Venice 181 himself with venetiana, it was because in essence these objects were mostly tools of his trade, a necessary complement to his archival researches. Thus in his house, besides the many books, illuminated Ducal commissions, and his beloved Longhis and Guardis, visitors would unfailingly remark also on the «hundred pieces of minor art and curiosity» he had there40. Yet even a painting he would regard less as a work of art than as a document illustrative of Venetian history. A case in point is the figure of the man in red in Bonifacio’s Strage degli innocenti41. By ‘reading’ it in the light of a report to the Chiefs of the Ten, Brown had identified the man with a famous bravo on the run, whose «handsome figure» had been noticed and described to the Chiefs as «wrapped in a cloak of crimson velvet, with a cap on his head of ormesin with a gold band»42. «Such was the garb of Ludovico dalle Arme when he rode post from Venice to Milan in February 1547», Brown wrote to Layard, «the picture is of that period and what could be more fitting than to introduce the portrait of a man who had caused the death of many innocent victims?», he argued43. Significantly, it was another scholar who best summed up Rawdon Brown’s approach to the collections that filled, but did not clutter, his rooms, by referring to «that picturesque assortment that distinguishes the lover of rarities from the owner of a wunderkammer»44. It was, no doubt, also this attitude that contributed to the feeling of comfort guests enjoyed in his house. Ca’ Capello, by contrast, never felt «intimate»: it was actually dubbed «the refrigerator» by the young and smart, and besides, everyone knew Sir Henry was «a disappointed man»45. Indeed, if his art gallery in Venice was compensating for the public life he missed, then

40 Norton, Rawdon Brown, p. 741. 41 venezia, Gallerie dell’Accademia, cat. 319. 42 R. Brown, Calendars, Vol. 2, 1867, p. 693; Vol. 5, 1873, p. 192, Venetian Archives, Misc. Letters, Benedetto Rhamberti, Venetian Secretary at Milan, to the Chiefs of the Ten, 10 February 1547. 43 BL, Add MS 38998, fols. 424-424v, R. Brown to H. Layard, 20 Dec. 1870. A dating was suggested by P. Humfrey, La pittura veneta del Rinascimento a Brera, Florence 1990, p. 163. 44 A. von Reumont, Rawdon Brown, «Archivio Storico Italiano», 4, 16 (1885), pp. 170-183, at pp. 177-178; my translation. 45 Pemble, Venice Rediscovered, pp. 35-6. 182 Maria Stella Florio

Rawdon Brown was his best friend there, ever tactful and considerate, but as strong a personality himself – he was «one who had resisted dear Enid»46. In fact, «crusty and odd occasionally» he could be, as Lady Eastlake remembered, but also «racy and humorous, generous, faithful and tender»47. He had long made arrangements to be buried at the Lido and worried when burials there were not allowed any more. Then, two years before his death, Lady Layard noted in her journal that he had come visiting and «seemed in good health & temper, said Mr Malcolm has eased his mind by finding him a nice grave next his own in the new cemetery»48. This was at San Michele, with on his tombstone simply «Rawdon Brown Anglus» and the dates. Soon afterwards, Queen Victoria awarded his sister Emma an annuity in recognition of the services he rendered to history.

46 e. Eastlake to H. Layard, Venice 26 Apr. 1877, in Sheldon, The Letters, p. 444. 47 e. E[astlake], The Late Mr Brown, «TheT imes», 8 Sep. 1883, p. 6, col. C. 48 lady Layard’s Journal, entry 7 Mar. 1881. Frederick Mario Fales

Layard, Saleh, And Miner Kellogg: Three Worlds In A Single Painting

In loving memory of Regina Soria, again

Abstract A painting, Layard with his servant Saleh, from a private collection, brings us back to the young Layard’s travels to the lands of the Bakhtiyari nomadic tribes in SE Iran. This was Austen Henry’s sole experience as a solitary wanderer in perilous territory and difficult times, due to which – on the other hand – he drew the attention of British Ambassador Stratford Canning in Constantinople, leading to all the momentous decisions for Ancient Near Eastern archaeology that were to ensue. The picture also opens the way for a look at the life and career of the first American Orientalist painter, Miner Kilbourne Kellogg, whom Layard befriended in Constantinople in 1845: a well-known portraitist, to whom Layard owed the later publicity of his archeological endeavors and books in the U.S.. Finally, we have Saleh: a youth from Luristan, who helped Austen Henry in dire situations among the Bakhtiyari, and who was so devoted to him as to come on foot to the Ottoman capital to visit his English master – as we know from Layard’s memoirs written decades later in the peace of Ca’ Cappello in Venice.

This essay will focus on a painting in a private collection, depicting Austen Henry Layard and his Lur servant Saleh during Layard’s early explorations in the Orient, within uncharted and hostile Bakhtiyari territory (Fig. 1)1. The artist was an American, Miner Kilbourne Kellogg

1 a first, longer and more complex, version of this essay appeared in Italian (F.M. Fales, Layard e Saleh: Oriente autentico e Oriente ideale in un quadro di Miner Kellogg, in 184 Frederick Mario Fales

(Fig. 2), who, although totally dissimilar from the English traveler/ archaeologist, and later politician/diplomat, by birth, character, cultural background, achievements and overall impact, nevertheless shared with Layard a keen sense of adventure and historical quest, along with the more personal traits of eclecticism and self-promotion, moreover coming to own in late years a remarkable collection of Italian art, not unlike Layard himself2. Kellogg was born three years before Layard (August 22, 1814) in Manlius Square, New York State, from a middle-class family of strong ethical and social principles; and at the age of four he was brought to Ohio, which would legitimately claim him as its son. In the flat Midwest he spent his youth, between Cincinnati, where he grew up and studied, and Indiana, where his family embraced for two years (1825-1826) the utopian community founded by the English social theorist Robert Owen in New Harmony on the Wabash River (Fig. 3): here the young Kellogg was put up in a separate dormitory, forbidden the wearing of shoes, and restricted to a vegetarian diet. However, it seems that the young man observed only in an informal and haphazard manner the rigorous precepts of educational and social democracy that fascinated his parents – mainly wandering in the fields with a generally idyllic attitude – and so, finally singled out for his artistic talent, he was put to study painting3. On his return to Cincinnati, Kellogg met the budding artist Hiram Powers, nine years older than himself, who sculpted his bust in 1828, at

Crossings – Ponti sull’Atlantico. Testi in ricordo di Regina Soria, a cura di F.M. Fales, Napoli 2011, pp. 79-95. The present version presents a more essentially focused text, but with numerous updated references and quotes, and a wider range of images. 2 on Miner Kilbourne Kellogg see essentially R. Soria, Dictionary of Nineteenth- Century American Artists in Italy 1760-1914, Rutherford 1982, p. 181 (with vast bibliography); G.M. Ackerman, American Orientalists, Courbevoie 1994, pp. 112- 119; M.S Haverstock - J.M. Vance - B.L. Meggitt, eds., Artists in Ohio 1787-1900: A Biographical Dictionary, Kent 2000, pp. 479-480. On Layard as art collector, see e.g. most recently C. Riva, An Art World Insider: Austen Henry Layard and the Nineteenth-Century European Art Trade, «Journal for Art Markey Studies», 2 (2018), pp. 1-22, with previous bibliography. 3 see the autobiographical notes written by Kellogg himself, republished by L.L. Sylvester, ed., Miner K. Kellogg: recollections of New Harmony, «Indiana Magazine of History», 64 (1968), pp. 39-64. Layard, Saleh, And Miner Kellogg 185 a Swedenborgian school4. Kellogg also had a musical talent (he taught himself the flute and studied the violin, of which he became a performer over time), and so played a small part in the musical-pictorial experiments in the local Western Museum along with Powers, and frequented with him the artistic activities housed in the department store or ‘bazaar’ of Greek-Moorish-Gothic-Chinese style – featuring a coffeehouse and live entertainment – built on the shore of the Ohio River by the English memoirist Frances Trollope (1780-1863), mother to the more famous writer Anthony (Fig. 4)5. All these characters, linked to the Midwest and to varying forms of social-utopian spiritualism with artistic implications – Powers, the Trollopes and Kellogg – would, curiously enough, come together again in Florence during the following decade6. Back with his family, Kellogg planned to open his own studio in Cincinnati in 1831; but soon afterward, he wandered off to look for new artistic and financial outlets on the rich East Coast, between New York and New Jersey, getting by with the violin and with random portraits, sometimes of politicians and high-ranking officials. A personal contact obtained through this way with President Martin van Buren ensured him a scholarship for access to the West Point Military Academy in the years 1838-1839; here he studied painting and began to send his works to regional art exhibitions and fairs. Upon his return to Cincinnati’s artistic circles, he was contacted by local Democrats to portray the aging Andrew Jackson, hero of the anti-British war of 1812; his successful portrait of Old Hickory (Fig. 5) gave rise to many commissions for copies, and eventually led him to execute a portrait of President van Buren himself. The early eighteen-forties thus saw Kellogg, entrusted with the task of diplomatic courier for the State Department, cross the Atlantic.

4 Kellogg would be later baptized in the Swedenborgian church (Ackerman, American Orientalists, p. 114). 5 The bazar was a failure and ended after a few months in bankruptcy, with the building and its contents sold at an auction for very little returns: see J. Suess, Hidden History of Cincinnati, Charleston SC 2016, Part I, *5. For a brief but vivid portrait of the «indomitable Mrs. Trollope», see recently e.g. A. Bianchini, Spiriti costretti, Torino 2008, pp. 17-32. 6 Both Mrs. Trollope and Hiram Powers are buried in the Protestant Cemetery of Florence, Piazzale Donatello 38. 186 Frederick Mario Fales

Having quickly exhausted his official duties in Europe, he decided to carry out his personal version of the Grand Tour, mainly focused on Italy: he thus made visits to Rome and Pompeii, and then settled down in Florence in 1841; here he executed copies of ancient masters on commission for the Pitti, getting enough to live and also allowing himself some occasional trip. His home in via Santa Maria, with a studio in via de’ Serragli, was adjacent to his friend Powers’ studio, who was already in Florence since 1837, and he joined the artistic circle of his elder colleague, whose fame was rapidly rising. Powers, on his part, admired in Miner all those abilities of easy relationship with people and of persuasion that were defective to him; so, when he finished in 1843 The Greek Slave – the statue in dry but polished neoclassical style for which he is especially famous (Fig. 6)7 – and decided to send it to be exhibited around America, Kellogg had little difficulty persuading him to entrust himself to administrative and practical management of the artistic tour8. Before embarking on this enterprise in favor of his friend, however, he decided to set out on his own for an inspirational journey to the East, in a Swedenborgian attitude of «divine coincidences» toward both the Bible and natural phenomena – thus avoiding the then active debate concerning Biblical narrative and natural history. Miner brought his paint-set and easel with him on the trip; and thus came to embody the forerunner of the many later Orientalist painters from America9. We thus find Kellogg in Egypt at the end of 1843, first in Alexandria, then by boat along the Nile with a company of various nationalities, with pleasant hunting trips on the river banks, until the arrival at Karnak, where the local governor received foreigners with pomp and

7 The statue, of which a plaster model, and various marble exemplars in British and American museum venues survive, depicts a Christian slave being sold by the Turks during the war for Greek liberation from the Ottoman Empire. 8 Kellogg was the compiler of a number of pamphlets explaining the title and nature of Powers’ statue to the American public: see W.J. Katz, Regionalism and Reform: Art and Class Formation in Antebellum Cincinnati, Columbus 2002, pp. 137-164, for the impact of, and reactions to, the depiction of a white female slave, endowed with modesty, vulnerability, and meekness manacled to an auction block, in an age of widespread discussion on slavery and antislavery throughout the Union. 9 See Ackerman, American Orientalists, pp. 115-116. Layard, Saleh, And Miner Kellogg 187 generosity, lending them horses for the night-time exploration of the ruins. Back in Cairo, Kellogg began to wear Oriental garb and visited the pyramid of Cheops, inscribing his name on the stones. Despite a series of illnesses, he insisted on going to the Sinai Peninsula where, with his Swedenborghian curiosity for the Bible, he made a large solitary tour in search of the mountain of the actual divine revelation, carrying out a vast series of drawings, then translated on canvas. Through May 1844, he traversed the Holy Land, arriving as far as Damascus; but he had already returned to Florence at the time of the disastrous flood of the Arno on November 3 of that year, on which he wrote for the American newspapers (Fig. 7). The East, however, still beckoned. In December of the same year we find Kellogg in Constantinople, at the invitation of Dabney Smith Carr, American ambassador to the Sublime Porte10. The two, who must have known each other through Kellogg’s portrait activity, even shared a home in the Ottoman capital, and the painter was able to frequent the circle of Anglo-American residents in the city, dominated by the influential figure of Sir Stratford Canning (Fig. 8). Canning (1786-1880) had been appointed British ambassador to the Sublime Porte for the first time in 1825 but, despite his efforts to negotiate a just peace after the war for the independence of Greece, he was soon recalled by London; after a few years in politics, he again obtained the same embassy in 1842. Here, until 1852, thanks to his consummate diplomatic experience, he would have greatly increased British influence at the court of the Sultan and his Grand Viziers, attempting to control the progressive decay of the Ottoman Empire. A possible collapse of the ‘sick man of Europe’ was feared in various Foreign Cabinets of the Old Continent for its unpredictable international consequences but openly

10 Carr (1802-1854), who through his mother was a great-grandson of Thomas Jefferson, and as such is buried in the Monticello family cemetery, is mentioned as a courteous and efficient Ambassador in the interesting account of the first US naval expedition to the Dead Sea, through Constantinople, the Levantine coast and the Jordan (1847-1848), of Commander W.F. Lynch, Narrative of the United States’ Expedition to the River Jordan and the Dead Sea, Philadelphia 1849 (the full text is now available in digital form at , last accessed 30/03/2020). 188 Frederick Mario Fales hoped for in others, in view of future imperialistic and commercial expansions11. * * * It was Canning who introduced Miner Kilbourne Kellogg to a young Englishman who had recently become his personal secretary, Austen Henry Layard12. Layard had arrived at the British Embassy in Constantinople at the end of three years of adventurous and often perilous journeys, in full flight from his family and from the professional and social duties that had been planned and organized for him. I need not recount here Layard’s early years: well known is his excellent upbringing in a British family of Huguenot origins with many foreign travels; and how later, after his father’s death, the family fell on hard times; and how he was unhappily forced to train as a barrister in his uncle’s office; and – finally – how the unique chance to accompany to Ceylon an associate, Henry Mitford, who could not stand maritime travel, brought him in

11 To the Ottoman Empire, Canning finally owed his final break with British politics. Returning to London in 1852, instead of receiving the embassy of Paris, as he hoped, he was appointed Viscount Stratford de Redcliffe (with little enthusiasm) by the Stanley government. Shortly thereafter, however, with the return of his former mentor, Lord Aberdeen, he was sent one last time to Constantinople on the occasion of the diplomatic crisis between Russia and the Sublime Porte. Here he urged the Sultan not to endorse Prince Menshikov’s proposed agreement on protecting the holy places of the Orthodox, fearing that this move could turn into a Russian protectorate on the Ottoman Empire; and for this he was accused – by Disraeli and others in the opposition – of having laid the foundations for the hostility that caused the Crimean War to break out. His supporters instead invited Layard to speak to the House in favor of Canning, but he did not, or was not sufficiently incisive (G.Waterfield , Layard of Nineveh, London 1963, p. 238). In fact, with the collapse of the Aberdeen government, having left Constantinople for the last time in 1857, Canning went into an embittered retirement. 12 The standard biography of A.H. Layard remains that of Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh. A number of different aspects of his career were analyzed in the papers of the Anglo-Italian conference volume: F.M. Fales - B.J. Hickey, eds., Austen Henry Layard tra l’Oriente e Venezia, Symposium Internazionale, Venezia 26-28 ottobre 1983, Rome 1987, said to represent a «watershed in Layard studies» (S. Malley, From Archaeology to Spectacle in Victorian Britain: The Case Of Assyria, 1845-1854, Farnham 2012, pp. 24- 25). For the discovery of Nineveh, the most complete and wide-ranging work is M.T. Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria. Excavations in an Antique Land, 1840-1860, London - New York 1994. Layard, Saleh, And Miner Kellogg 189

1839 overland to the Levant, and then to Mesopotamia for his first illuminating vision of the Assyrian ruin-hills. In 1840, despite danger of an impending Persian attack on Mesopotamia, Layard and Mitford had joined an eastward-bound caravan, dressed in local garb, and so had visited the majestic monument of Bisutun, where Henry Rawlinson was working on the decipherment of the famous trilingual rock-inscription13. After this, Mitford chose to continue by himself on to Ceylon, while Austen Henry decided to explore Khuzestan, the territory of southern Persia east of the Tigris, inhabited by the indomitable Bakhtiyari nomadic tribes and almost unknown to European travelers. Thus began an extraordinary journey between the basins of the Karun and Kerkhah rivers and the Shatt el-Arab, where the Euphrates and the Tigris mix their waters before plunging into the (Fig. 9): a journey of which Layard kept extensive journals, but whose writing in the form of a book took place almost half a century later, in the peace of his Venetian home at Ca’ Cappello (Fig. 10)14. The journey into Khuzestan was all the more difficult, as the government authorities were extremely suspicious of the young man as a possible British agent, in a moment of Anglo-Persian hostility. Moreover, the mountain tribes of the Bakhtiyari15, while fighting jointly

13 See Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, 48-49. 14 A.H. Layard, Early Adventures in Persia, Susiana, and Babylonia, including a Residence among the Bakhtiyari and other Wild Tribes before the Discovery of Nineveh, 2 vols., London 1887. An abridged version came out in 1894, with a preface by Henry Bruce, Lord Aberdare: cf. Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, p. 472. Lord Curzon, a renowned Persian specialist, described the work as «one of the most romantic adventure stories ever written»: cf. D. Blow, Persia through Writers’ Eyes, «Asian Affairs», 39 (2008), pp. 400-412 (see p. 406). 15 The Bakhtiyari are a subgroup of the Lur ethnic-linguistic group, speaking a south- western Iranian language; their origins are discussed, sometimes traced back to Hellenism or even to the Parsua enemies of the Assyrians. Cf., in general, Encyclopaedia Iranica s.v. Baḵtīārī Tribe (now , last accessed 30/03/2020). Certainly, the way of life of the Iranian nomads described by Strabo and Polybius does not seem to have been very different from that of the Bakhtiyari and other tribes of the area, such as the Kurds and the Lurs, up until the modern age (see A.M. Khazanov, Nomads and the Outside World, Madison 1994, p. 103). For the Persian policy towards the Bakhtiyari in the mid-nineteenth century, see G.R. Garthwaite, The 190 Frederick Mario Fales against the assimilation desired by the Persian government, were devoid of internal unity and, indeed, were prone to permanent mutual conflict for raiding purposes, «like medieval barons», according to Layard. In fact, among these «wild tribes», Austen Henry came across a generous figure of political leader (ilkhāni), Mohammad Taqi Khān of the group of the Čahār Lang16, who welcomed him with friendship, along with his wife Khatun-jan Khanum, especially after the young Englishman managed to save their son Hussein, who was seriously ill (and doomed, according to the doctors of the village) with doses of quinine and ‘Dr. Dover’s powder’, largely used in England at the time17. Mohammed Taqi Khān had of a peaceful future and productive outcomes for his people in the trade of the Persian Gulf, but he had the misfortune of encountering a tough and cruel governor of Isfahan, the eunuch Manučihr Khān (whose original name was Yenikopolov, a Georgian from Tbilisi). The governor – just while Layard was there, in 1841 – threatened to annihilate the tribe by military means, taking young Hussein as hostage first and then asking for the surrender of Mohammed Taqi Khān himself, who gave himself in for the good of his people, despite the violent opposition of his beautiful wife. Layard’s description of the governor is worth reading:

He was hated and feared for his cruelty; but it was generally admitted that he ruled justly, that he protected the weak from oppression by the strong, and that where he was able to enforce his authority life and property were secure ... The Matamet had the usual characteristic of the eunuch. He was beardless, had a smooth, colourless face, with hanging cheeks and a weak, shrill, feminine voice. He was short, stout, and flabby, and his limbs were ungainly and slow of movement. His features, which were of the Georgian type, had a wearied and listless

Bakhtiyari Khans, The Government of Iran, And The British, 1846-1915, «Journal of Middle East Studies», 3 (1971), pp. 24-44, with references also to the years before 1846 and to Mohammed Taqi Khān (p. 25). 16 For Mohammad Taqi Khān, cf. H.A.R. Gibb, Encyclopaedia of Islam, s.v. Lur, p. 825 (who however erroneously describes Manučihr Khān as «an Armenian from Tbilisi»). 17 a traditional preparation of the time, based on ipecacuanha, opium and potassium sulfate, widely used as an antipyretic. The Bakhtiyari boy probably suffered from malaria, given the effectiveness of the quinine administered by Layard. Layard, Saleh, And Miner Kellogg 191

appearance, and were without expression or animation. He was dressed in the usual Persian costume – his tunic being the finest Cashmere cloth – and he carried a jewel-handled curved dagger in the shawl folded round his waist18. The rest of Layard’s stay in Khuzestan – although marked by comings and goings with Baghdad – was therefore spent on journeys from one town to another, trying to get, by personal or diplomatic support, the release of the tribal chief, but in vain. He saw Mohammed Taqi Khān for the last time forced into severe irons and resigned to his fate, while his wife and other women in the family lived in the capital in great poverty. His words on the matter are desolate:

I had received from them during their prosperity a kindness and hospitality which, as a European and a Christian, I could not have expected in a tribe reputed one of the most fanatical, savage, and cruel in Asia. I had shared with them their dangers and privations. I could not forget that even in moments of the greatest peril and of the greatest suffering, almost their first thought was for the safety of me – a stranger. I believed that we should never meet again. That thought, and the uncertainty of the fate which awaited them from those who delighted in cruelty and were at that time ingenious beyond most other Easterns in inventing new tortures, weighed upon me.19 After this, having escaped Manučihr Khān’s attempts to arrest him, and other Bakhtiyari tribal chiefs’ efforts to kill him, he descended toward the Shatt el-Arab, risking several times to be robbed or worse by the Arab Bedouin tribes of Mesopotamia. Finally, ragged and in native clothes, he returned definitively to Baghdad, where he was informed that the Sublime Porte intended to declare war on Persia to recover the port of Mohammerah (today Khorramshahr) on the Persian Gulf; and that, precisely for this reason, Ambassador Canning in Constantinople would have liked a firsthand account of what Layard had seen and heard during his travels. He thus arrived in the Ottoman capital in July 1842, arousing the

18 Layard, Early Adventures, Vol. 1, Ch. VI, pp. 312-313. 19 Ibid., Vol. 2, Ch. XV, p. 284. 192 Frederick Mario Fales sympathy and interest of Canning, who soon employed him in various informational missions on his behalf. At the end of 1844, after two years of pleasant social life on the Bosphorus but also of lively diplomatic trips here and there to Europe (most notably to Albania and Serbia), Austen Henry received news that he had been nominated by London as a paid attaché of Canning to the Embassy. In this new official capacity, therefore, he met Miner Kilbourne Kellogg. The two young men got along immediately, due to the common passion for Oriental travel, and Layard had little difficulty in convincing the «clever American painter» to follow him on a visit to the ancient Aizanoi, site of a famous sanctuary of Zeus, of a thermal building and a vast Hellenistic-Roman theater at modern Çavdarhisar, Kütahya Province (Fig. 11). The site, identified and fully described only a few decades ago20, was reached by ship to Izmit and from there via land through Bursa, where travelers climbed the Olympus («an easy climb», according to Kellogg)21. From Bursa, through arid valleys, they finally reached the monumental complex, and while Layard copied ancient inscriptions, Kellogg drew the details of the buildings: «We worked as beavers to be the first to make known the details and value of these ruins, until that moment only the subject of hints from previous travelers», Kellogg wrote, with some exaggeration22.

20 and still awaiting acceptance in the UNESCO World Heritage Site list (, last accessed 30/03/2020). The site of Aizanoi is well described and illustrated e.g. in D. De Bernardi Ferrero, Teatri classici in Asia Minore, III, Città dalla Troade alla Pamfilia, Rome 1970, pp. 175-187. The Count of Perponcher, then Secretary of the Prussian Delegation in Constantinople, also participated in the expedition with Layard and Kellogg. 21 coming down from the summit (approx. 2300 m.), Kellogg saw piles of snow that made him crave a glass of Mint julep. Layard said he had never tried this famous American drink, even though he had heard of it. The two therefore set about searching for wild mint, which they then mixed with brandy and sugar taken from the backpacks, obtaining a fairly satisfying cocktail (Ackerman, American Orientalists, p. 118). 22 Ackerman, American Orientalists, p. 119. In point of fact, Ph. Le Bas and the architect F. Landron had already performed admirable reconstructions of the monumental complex of the site in 1843, but their work had appeared in an incomplete and relatively obscure account, Voyage archéologique en Grèce et Asie Mineure, which found its proper notoriety only forty years later, through a re-edition with editorship by Salomon Reinach (Paris 1888). Layard, Saleh, And Miner Kellogg 193

There were no further archaeological excursions between the two, in the nine months that Kellogg spent in Constantinople. Moreover, in the course of 1845, Layard was working to convince Canning to grant him permission and the means to go digging in Assyria, insisting above all on the interest that the archaeological enterprise could have had for the prestige of England, since the French – with Paul-Émile Botta, whom Layard had met in Mosul in 184223 – were already hard at work in their search for ancient Nineveh. And what happened after Canning granted his request, is well known24. Kellogg, on his part, returned to Florence, and except for a short trip to Asia Minor a decade later he no longer visited the Orient. From 1847 on, moving from Florence, he began to «cleverly sponsor» The Greek Slave throughout America, while promoting himself, with great success in terms of public and revenue for his friend Powers. Finally,

23 Paul-Émile (originally Paolo Emiliano) Botta (1802-1870) was the son of Carlo Botta (of Rivarolo Canavese in , cf. Malvezzi in Fales-Hickey, eds. Austen Henry Layard, pp. 35-36), a major historian of the American revolution and of the Neapolitan one of 1799, who later became a follower of Napoleon and moved to France, where he rose to Rector of the University of Rouen. Botta fils had had a varied and eventful youth and education: after studying with the naturalist Cuvier, he had made a research trip by ship around the world – practically on the same sea route beaten by Charles Darwin fifteen years later – and was then involved in the war for independence of Greece. Later – in the Thirties – he had practiced as a military doctor in Egypt under Mehmet Ali, where the young met him, immortalizing him as the double-faced Marigny in his novel Contarini Fleming. Finally, thanks to his knowledge of , Botta was appointed consul in Mosul, with the intention of dedicating himself to the archaeology of Assyria for the glory of France. Here, while he was digging without much success on the mound of Kuyunjik, the young Layard came to see him in 1842 on his way to Constantinople, and the two fraternized greatly, although Layard failed to appreciate the opium offered to him by the Frenchman, long an addict. Botta then moved to Khorsabad, where he unearthed the first Assyrian palace ever; but his glory was short-lived, and the fall of Louis Philippe’s monarchy in 1848 precluded his return to Assyria. He was thereupon for many years relegated to the secondary diplomatic post of Jerusalem, where Gustave Flaubert met him, by now depressed and in the grip of mystical delusions, shortly before his return to France and his death in Achères. 24 See Larsen, The Conquest of Assyria, pp. 67-70. On Anglo-French rivalry over antiquities from Napoleon to the time of the Assyrian discoveries, see e.g. H. Hoock, The British State and the Anglo-French Wars Over Antiquities, 1798-1858, «The Historical Journal», 50 (2007), pp. 49-72. 194 Frederick Mario Fales in 1855, Kellogg moved to Paris, where he also became a trader in art, and then to London, where he married and had a daughter. After the Civil War he returned to America, first to Baltimore, then from 1870 to Toledo (Ohio), where – with the exception of an artistic trip to Texas in 1873 – he remained until his death in 1889. * * * In the early months of 1845, on the other hand, Kellogg and Layard certainly had tied strong bonds of friendship; these would result in a warm correspondence over the years, and in the task of promoting Layard’s Assyrian discoveries and the ensuing best-selling books in the United States – an activity that Kellogg undertook during the next decade through newspaper articles and public lectures25. But at that time, Kellogg surely heard the details of the extraordinary journey to the land of the Bakhtiyari from Layard’s own voice, and his young English friend must have seemed a truly romantic figure, worthy of being immortalized on canvas. Proof of this is his portrait of Layard ‘in Constantinople’ in standing pose (Fig. 12), with long hair and mustache, dressed in a sort of oriental robe that he keeps closed with his left hand, his face in three quarters’ view, with a faraway gaze26. But above all proof of this is the picture entitled Layard with his servant Saleh, which bears an autograph of Kellogg on the back (Fig. 1): it indicates that the painting was executed in Constantinople and depicts the protagonists in Bakhtiyari clothes. In this oil, the American

25 layard had foreseen the success of his best-selling archaeological book, Nineveh and Its Remains (London) – which sold 8000 copies during its first year (1849) – also in America, where an edition appeared the same year. In a letter to Kellogg (Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh, p. 182), he stated that «I think the book will be attractive particularly in America where there are so many scripture readers»; see S. Malley, Austen Henry Layard and the Periodical Press: Middle Eastern Archaeology and the Excavation of Cultural Identity in Mid-Nineteenth Century Britain, «Victorian Review», 22 (1996), pp. 152-170 (esp. p. 158). Wider-ranging overviews on the subject of the impact of Layard’s discoveries on Victorian society and culture have been more recently provided by F.N. Bohrer, Orientalism and Visual Culture: Imagining Mesopotamia in Nineteenth-Century Europe, Cambridge 2003, and Malley, From Archaeology to Spectacle. 26 The portrait is reproduced in b/w inWaterfield , Layard of Nineveh, facing p. 39 (with incorrect indication «Mina K. Kellogg»). The painting, formerly owned by the Ottoman Bank, of which Layard was one of the founders, is now lost in the United States. Layard, Saleh, And Miner Kellogg 195 painter builds with some skill an Orientalist figurative type, placing in the background the plains and mountains of Persia and on a nearer plane a tent in which a figure of female attendant can be glimpsed, with a tea tray in her hand. The foreground shows two figures side by side: on the left, slightly more advanced, a bearded man is standing, in repose and looking forward, with his left foot resting on a stone and a rifle in the right, held upright by its barrel; he wears a conical woollen hat, a red cloak that covers a half-open blue tunic over a white shirt, and red trousers with high curved pointed shoes. From the waist hang a flask, a gunpowder container and a dagger in its sheath. Beside him, sits another man with only a mustache; his clothing, although less varied (light headgear, blue tunic) does not seem different from that of his companion. He looks down, examining a pipe, held by its tip above his crossed legs. Just in front of him, on the ground, we see two vases with a typical elongated neck shape suitable for a hookah or narghile, one of which has been overturned. The first impression one has looking at the work, and knowing its title, is that the man with the rifle is the expedition leader Layard, and that the person sitting with downturned gaze is the servant Saleh, occupied in household chores or the like. But that things are very different, is shown by a watercolor, of a lesser quality, executed in Constantinople on April 6, 1843 by the Maltese Orientalist painter Amedeo Preziosi (Fig. 13)27. In it, Layard is depicted in profile, in exactly the same pose as the standing figure of Kellogg’s painting, and in an almost identical garment (brocade overcoat, toga, shirt, trousers, oriental shoes), and with the architectural profile of a fortress – perhaps, in the intentions of

27 The watercolor has the inventory number of the British Museum P(rints) & D(rawings) 1976-9-25.9. Its dimensions are 29.8 × 22.5 cm. For a reproduction and a brief description of the work, see J.E. Curtis - J.E. Reade, Art and Empire. Treasures from Assyria in the British Museum, London 1995, p. 212. Preziosi’s portrait was donated to the British Museum in 1976 by Layard’s great-granddaughter Miss Phyllis Layard, who had already (in 1968) donated a portrait of Austen Henry in old age (1885) to the Metropolitan Museum in New York. Amedeo Preziosi (1816-1882), after having studied art in Paris, had settled in Constantinople in 1842, where – after a commission by Robert Curzon, private secretary to Canning in 1844 – he carried out a vast activity as a ‘classical’ orientalist painter (popular portraits, market scenes, building interiors, etc.). He moved much later (1868) to , painting scenes from during the early years of Romanian independence. 196 Frederick Mario Fales the artist, the Qala Tul, the fortress of Mohammed Taqi Khān – in the mists of the background. It is precisely through this comparison that Kellogg’s painting can be interpreted exactly to the opposite of a first impression: the standing, bearded man, the warrior who searches the horizon, represents the servant and Layard – only bearing a mustache as in the portrait by Preziosi and in the other depiction by Kellogg – is the seated individual who wields his pipe with an absorbed air. In essence, Kellogg must have seen Preziosi’s watercolor, most probably chez Layard himself, because in his painting he took up all the characteristics of the Bakhtiyari costume and of the warlike pose, transferring them to the servant, and portraying the European master on the contrary as a man of thought, serene in his being well protected from external dangers. And a further pictorial testimony shows us that this “anthropological hierarchy” was figuratively congenial to Kellogg (Fig. 14). If we observe the oil on plywood (32.4 × 45.8 cm.) in which – again in 1845, according to common opinion – he minutiously represented the «ruins of Asrum, Asia Minor», that is, the remains of the Aizanoi theater visited together with Layard, we will notice two small figures side by side in the lower left corner. The right-hand one in western clothes with sober colors, sitting on a big stone, intent on drawing with his gaze bent, corresponds to Kellogg himself, while the left-hand one, standing upright with one foot resting on the same stone, in multicolored native clothes and turban, and with a rifle held by the barrel, is again an Eastern servant who guards his European employer. * * * To sum up, Layard with his servant Saleh by Miner K. Kellogg represents – like many other Orientalist paintings of the time – a pictorial transfer ex post and ‘in studio’ of actual visual experiences, according to the ideological canons of the time. The essential ‘rules’ of 19th-century Orientalist thought as depicted by Edward Said are all present in Kellogg’s work: the Orient is certainly a backward place, where all the progress attained in the West is still a long way in coming. At the same time, it is marked by background elements of remarkable artistic and technical refinement (architecture, clothing) that bring to mind a glorious past: from the imposing ruins of ancient pre-classical or classical civilizations, to the splendor of semi-ruined mosques, to the Layard, Saleh, And Miner Kellogg 197 rich brocades of the traditional clothes worn even by humble people. The only difference between Kellogg’s painting and those of many of his contemporaries was that the Ohio painter had never seen (and never saw) directly the landscape of Khuzestan; his portrayal of the Orient was therefore idealized to a degree above the norm, as it derived exclusively from the colorful travel stories of his English friend Layard. In point of fact, the real Saleh was a young man from Luristan, i.e. from a land close to that of the Bakhtiyari, whom Layard had met at Kermanshah, and whom he hired to accompany him in his last attempts to free Mohammed Taqi Khān. Layard describes him as «brave, faithful and trustworthy»28, with a good understanding of Arabic as well. In addition, the young Lur had a loose tongue and – in the evening, among tribal chiefs sitting in a tent, Arabs or Bakhtiyari as they may have been – he managed to invent the most bizarre motivations for his master’s wandering in those lands where Europeans did not set foot, or told stories and traditional legends; he was also skilled in the songs of the Lur, especially if dampened by the good wine of – of which some Bakhtiyari chiefs partook, with sweetmeants and dried fruits, as openings to abundant meals29. Despite the dangerous environment, the presence of Saleh was of help to guarantee Layard safety and his purse. One evening, however, in an isolated place, a group of Arabs eager for money overcame Saleh, depriving him of pistol and dagger, thus forcing Layard to raised his own gun; he however decided to «parley and to endeavour to come to terms», so as to avoid future reprisals30. Only one disagreement came to mark the relationship of good company between Layard and Saleh31: it was when, after the two slipped out on horseback in the middle of the night of an encampment of Arabs who they suspected of bad intentions towards them, Saleh started singing loudly for the joy of returning to the city, where he could relax and drink raqi. Layard rebuked him bitterly for his recklessness in a moment of danger: but his insults in the Bakhtiyari language offended Saleh to such an extent that he dismounted and pointed his gun at

28 Layard, Early Adventures, Vol. 1, Ch. II, p. 222. 29 Ibid., p. 243. 30 Ibid., p. 231. 31 Ibid., pp. 335-36. 198 Frederick Mario Fales

Layard, fortunately misfiring. Layard also pulled out his own weapon, and gradually a calmer mood prevailed. Afterwards, Saleh showed himself very «penitent for his misconduct», and asked so beseechingly for forgiveness for his behavior, that Layard granted it to him formally. Layard states in his memoirs that Saleh considered him with great affection, describing him to third parties as his «master and protector»; in fact, he was so was so devoted that some years after their common adventures, he walked all the way from Baghdad on foot to visit Layard in Constantinople, so that the latter wrote that «I had to keep him for some time, to my great inconvenience, in the small lodging that I occupied»32. The exact date of this visit is not known: but it seems unlikely that any of Layard’s portrayers in the Ottoman capital – whether Preziosi of Kellogg – ever actually made his acquaintance. Thus, the Lur servant Saleh in Miner Kellogg’s painting of Layard in Khuzestan – with which this essay has been concerned – should most plausibly be regarded as an idealized Oriental figure within an idealized Oriental(ist) landscape.

32 Ibid., p. 336b. Fig.1 - Miner K. Kellogg, Layard with his servant Saleh, 1845. Costantinople, Private Collection. Fig.2 - S.B. Clevenger, Profile relief of Miner K. Kellogg, 1839. Washington D.C, Smithsonian American Art Museum. Fig.3 - New Harmony, Indiana, as planned by Robert Owen. Fig. 4 - Mrs. Trollope’s ‘Bazaar’ in Cincinnati, Ohio. 199 Fig. 5 - Miner K. Kellogg, Andrew Jackson, ca. 1840. Washington D.C, Smithsonian American Art Museum. Fig. 6 - Hiram Powers, The Greek Slave, 1844-1860s. Washington D.C, National Gallery of Art. 200 Fig. 7 - The flood of the Arno at Florence, November 3, 1844. Fig. 8 - Sir Stratford Canning, 1853. London, National Portrait Gallery. Fig. 9 - Layard’s travels in Mesopotamia: the Khuzestan-Persian itinerary is marked in bold lines on the right-hand side of the map. From Waterfield, Layard of Nineveh. 201 Fig. 10 - Layard’s Venetian home, Ca’ Cappello on the Grand Canal, postcard of the early 20th century. Fig. 11 - Theatre at Aizanoi. 202 Fig. 12 - Miner K. Kellogg, Layard in Constantinople, ca. 1845. Fig. 13 - Amedeo Preziosi, Layard in Bakhtiyari garb, 1843. Constantinople. Fig. 14 - Miner K. Kellogg, Ruins of Asrum, Constantinople 1845. Washington D.C, Smithsonian American Art Museum. 203

Cecilia Riva

Austen Henry Layard and his Unruly Passion for Art

Abstract This essay explores one of the privileged networks Austen Henry Layard used for both public and private purchases, i.e. the diplomatic channel. It seeks to outline the principal actors of this interconnected system and the methods he made use of in order to pursue his own collecting activity. This paper offers a close reading of the private correspondence Layard maintained with consuls, ambassadors, and museums directors, most of which is analysed for the first time. Presenting a series of cases that involved the diplomatic corps in a prominent position yields an interesting view of a silent (inconspicuous) protagonist of the nineteenth-century art market.

Throughout the centuries, the relationship between diplomacy and art have been prolific and extensive, both as an instrument of propaganda and as a neutral platform to favour the dialogue between foreign countries. These exchanges concurred in broadening the circulation of works of art, as well as through influencing the developments of private and public collections. Suffice it to recall the cultural transfer promoted by figures such as William Hamilton, Horace Mann, Joseph Smith or Lord Harrington. It is this collateral path of the art market and, therefore, the networks created around mid-nineteenth century by Austen Henry Layard (1817-1894) and the British Vice-Consul General in Venice, William Perry (1801-1874), that I will analyse in this essay1. If the former needs no presentation, the second certainly does in this context. From 1835 to 1837 Perry served as Master of the Horse to the

1 The correspondence between Layard and Perry is published here for the first time. Bibliographical references are limited to the most recent publications. 206 Cecilia Riva

Lord Lieutenant of Ireland; between 1841 and 1860 as Consul and Chief Packet Agent at Panama; from 1860 to 1872 he held the position as Consul General for Venice and the Austrian Ports of the Adriatic. On 7 June 1872, he received the knighthood. He was a fellow of the Royal Geographical and Horticultural Societies. More significantly still, he had a keen interest in arts, which must undoubtedly have favoured his friendship with Layard2. Likely, the two men met at the time of Layard’s second appointment at the Foreign Office (1861-1866). In his position of Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, Henry Layard did much profitable picture dealing. He furnished museum directors with updated lists of works of art on sale throughout Europe and Middle East; for example about particular Spanish paintings that the Consul at Cadiz had selected on his request3. Yet at Layard’s recommendation Mr Herbert, a consular agent at Baghdad, helped the Science and Art Department, later the Victoria and Albert Museum, in securing «a collection of pottery stuffs, objects in metal, arms, and various other articles illustrative of the customs and mode of life of the inhabitants of Asia Minor, Mesopotamia, Kurdistan and Persia»4. Among this extended network, the British Vice-Consul General in Venice, Perry, appears to have been the principal middleman in supplying Layard – as well as other English collectors and museums – with paintings, as well as facilitating their transport to Britain through Vienna. To this end, in June 1862, Perry informed Layard that he had «bought 3 very grand pictures for Fane, and all very fair prices. The [first] is a Gianbellino [sic], the nd2 a Palma Vecchio and the third a Bonifacio»5. The consul not only had profitable relationships with a number of picture dealers and painter-restorers based in Venice (Paolo

2 Perry’s diplomatic career can be inferred from a letter kept at Kew, National Archives (hereafter NA), Foreign Office 45/171: W. Perry to theth 4 Earl of Clarendon, Venice, 19 May 1870. He may have had a small collection of paintings in his Venetian house, but there is no clear evidence on this point. 3 London, British Library (hereafter only BL), Layard Papers, Vol. LXI, Add MS 38991, fol. 24r: C.L. Eastlake to A.H. Layard, 27 January 1865. 4 london, Victoria and Albert Museum Archive, MA/1/L561: A.H. Layard to H. Cole, 20 March 1868. 5 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXVIII, Add MS 39103, fol. 157: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, 7 June 1862. Austen Henry Layard and his Unruly Passion for Art 207

Fabris, Michelangelo Grigoletti, and Vincenzo Azzola, to name just a few), but was also on very good terms with local aristocracy, as we shall see6. Among the interesting opportunities the consul brought to Layard’s attention was the sale of a picture traditionally ascribed to Vittore Carpaccio representing the Virgin and Child with Saints Christopher and John the Baptist, and Doge Giovanni Mocenigo (its present condition does not allow for a secure attribution; London, National Gallery, NG750)7. The canvas belonged to Count Alvise Mocenigo of Venice and may have been of interest of the National Gallery, London. Indeed, (1793-1865), first director of the Gallery, had already inspected it during one of his yearly continental tours in September 18648. At that time, the count «refuse[d] to part with it»9, but only a few months later he appeared to be «very anxious to sell his Carpaccio»10. Not surprisingly given this previous attempt, Perry immediately informed Layard of such an opportunity and encouraged the purchase on behalf of the National Gallery. The negotiations started in February 1865. Given the count’s poor economic situation, the consul believed that an offer slightly superior to the 40,000 Francs, previously proposed by the Venetian antiquarian Consiglio Richetti, would be acceptable. To the contrary, however, the owner changed his mind and ask for no less than 100,000 Francs for

6 Paolo Fabris, curator and restorer of the Doge’s Palace in Venice, acted as occasional agent for Eastlake. Vincenzo Azzola was a restorer and an art dealer originating from Bergamo, who was based in 2931 Santa Margherita (Venice) and had been previously employed by the National Gallery for the acquisition of a painting by Bellini. See BL, Vol. LV, Add MS 38985, fol. 207r: V. Azzola to A.H. Layard, 20 March 1857. On these painter- restorers see G. Perusini, Il restauro a Venezia nell’Ottocento: un “affaire accademico”, in L’accademia di Belle Arti di Venezia, Vol. 4, 1, edited by N. Stringa, Crocetta del Montello 2016, pp. 167-185; in the same volume cf. I. Collavizza, “Per la salvaguardia delle Belle Arti”: l’esercizio della tutela e le commissioni accademiche, pp. 187-211. 7 See C. Gould, Illustrated General Catalogue, London 1973, pp. 767-768. 8 In his notebook Eastlake recorded the painting as “Vittore Carpazio p. 1479”. Quoted in S. Avery-Quash, The Travel Notebooks of Sir Charles Eastlake, 2 vols., London 2011 (The Walpole Society, 73), p. 666. 9 Avery-Quash, The Travel Notebooks, p. 666. 10 edinburgh, National Library of Scotland (hereafter NLS), John Murray Archive, MS 42336, fol. 80r: A.H. Layard to E. Rigby, Venice, 12 October 1865. 208 Cecilia Riva his pseudo-Carpaccio. Nonetheless, Perry was convinced that half of the amount might have been far enough «as [the count] wants money, having lately restored his Palace»11. By that time, Eastlake was already negotiating for the Incredulity of St. Thomas by Cima da Conegliano in the church of San Francesco at Portogruaro (Venice), through the services of a Venetian art dealer called either Pajaro or Pagliaro12. Hence he was compelled to complete this transaction first, as carefully detailed in a letter to Layard:

Entre nous, it is very important that this affair should be settled soon, for the plain reason that the good balance which is now at the disposal of the Trustees must be surrendered at the close of the financial year, and all that is to be provided independently of that balance will be absorbed, if not by the Pourtalès pictures, by two other important sales, that of the Duchesse de Berri’s pictures and that of the Van Brienen collection (at Amsterdam). The present balance is more than £5,000, but I have offered £2,000, and may perhaps increase the offer, for some of the Balbi-Piovera pictures13. Nevertheless, Eastlake invited Layard to write to Pajaro on his behalf and ask for a price for the picture in Count Mocenigo’s possession. In the meantime, Layard explained Perry «that it [was] important to set the price of the Cima»14 before opening a negotiation for the Carpaccio. The latter could wait, especially because Eastlake wished to see it again

11 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXXIII, Add MS 39113, fol. 351: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Venice, 21 February 1865. 12 The negotiation for the Cima at Portogruaro is documented in Eastlake’s notebooks, see Avery-Quash, The Travel Notebooks, pp. 635, 638. Only in 1870 the second director of the National Gallery, William Boxall, could eventually secure it for the museum (NG816). Pajaro was based at Palazzo Bianca Cappello at Sant’Aponal, Venice. Cf. BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXVIII, Add MS 39103, fol. 387: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, 14 August 1862. 13 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. LXI, Add MS 38991, fols. 37v-38r: C.L. Eastlake to A.H. Layard, Paris, 30 January 1865. On the management and funds of the National Gallery, see C. Whitehead, The Public Art Museum in Nineteenth century in Britain. The Development of the National Gallery, Aldershot 2005. According to the Bank of England’s Historic Inflation Calculator, £1000 in 1865 translates to £123,422.22 in 2018. For any further calculations cf. (last accessed 01/09/2019). 14 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXXIII, Add MS 39113, fol. 167v: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Venice, 6 February 1865 Austen Henry Layard and his Unruly Passion for Art 209 before finalising the deal, as the picture had been «repaired and possibly much repainted by Tagliapietra»15. While the negotiation for the Cima of Portogruaro remained pending16, Eastlake, on Layard’s exhortation, resolved to ask Paolo Fabris – who «sometimes transact[ed] business for»17 him – to inspect the Mocenigo Carpaccio and if satisfactory to offer 80,000 Francs (c. £3,200 at the time). Eastlake had personally seen the picture the previous autumn and judged it an important one18. In addition, he had also been able to show to the Trustees of the National Gallery «a rough engraving of the Carpaccio»19 sent by Perry. The Board had «admitted that it was apparently a desirable acquisition»20 for the museum. However, by the time of finalising the purchase in October 1865, Eastlake was already bedridden because of his ill-health. Even though he could rely on his notes, he was «greatly influenced by the impression, restorations included, which the picture produced on»21 Layard. By then, Layard was in Venice for government duties and could easily undertake the task. The day after his inspection, Layard promptly sent an enthusiastic report to the Eastlakes.

I am very anxious indeed that he should secure this magnificent picture for the National Gallery and I feel sure that he would greatly regret to find that it passed into other hands. Mr Perry who is on very

15 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. LXI, Add MS 38991, fol. 70v: C.L. Eastlake to A.H. Layard, London, 11 February 1865. Andrea Alberto Tagliapietra was inspector of the Accademia (1854-1871), see G. Perusini, Selvatico e il restauro pittorico, in Pietro Selvatico e il rinnovamento delle arti nell’Italia dell’Ottocento, conference proceedings, Venice 22-23 October 2013, edited by A. Auf der Heyde - M. Visentin - F. Castellani, Pisa 2016, pp. 474-475, n. 26. 16 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. LXI, Add MS 38991, fol. 131: C.L. Eastlake to A.H. Layard, London, 15 March 1865. 17 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. LXI, Add MS 38991, fol. 118r: C.L. Eastlake to A.H. Layard, London, 9 March 1865. 18 an interesting comment on the Mocenigo Carpaccio is included in a letter to the Keeper of the National Gallery Ralph N. Wornum, see London, National Gallery Archive (hereafter NGA), NG5/161/15: C.L. Eastlake to R.N. Wornum, Milan, 20 October, 1865. 19 nls, John Murray Archive, MS 42169, fol. 35v: C.L. Eastlake to A. H. Layard, Milan, 16 October 1865. 20 Ibid. 21 Ibid. 210 Cecilia Riva

friendly terms with Count Mocenigo, the owner, tells me that he is in difficulties at the present moment and that he will certainly sell the picture if he can get a good price for it. He came to Venice to see me, and we dined together at Mr Perry’s. The picture was taken down and I examined it very carefully with Sig. Fabris. I do not like to press the matter too much upon Sir Charles as it might trouble him but I should be glad if he could say a word. I think if Sir Charles has any doubt about the picture it might be worthwhile to send Mündler here on purpose to see it that such an addition to our National Gallery would be most desirable. I cannot doubt. I suppose it to be the finest Carpaccio in existence. TheV irgin wants refinement perhaps, but the kneeling Doge – the St. Christopher with the Child, the St. John the Baptist and the landscape are magnificent. The picture, as you know, is signed, and been the arms of the family the portrait is that of the Doge Mocenigo. Fabris has this moment called upon me. He tells me that he had since conversation with Count Mocenigo before he left Venice and that for the first time he named a price – 110,000 francs (no copy to be left with him). Fabris requests me to tell Sir Charles this. The price seems large, but the picture would be a noble addition to our national collection, and the Count would probably take less22. Together with the Carpaccio, Fabris proposed to include a «‘Grazioso’ Basaiti at the Casa Mocenigo»23 in the negotiation, of which, however, Eastlake had no recollection. Therefore, he invited Layard to inspect it: «The Basaiti may or not be a picture which I should have selected but ‘thrown in’ under the circumstances would not hesitate to take it if it is of sufficient importance. If not, I would rather have [the Carpaccio] alone»24. The Basaiti must have appeared questionable, if it was declined. The deal was concluded, but not without causing some stir. Fabris and Pajaro, who had both concurred in the transaction at different stages, fought over the commission on the purchase. Pajaro had initially sent Eastlake a description of the painting along with a

22 NLS, John Murray Archive, MS 42336, fols. 81-82: A.H. Layard to E. Rigby, Venice, 17 October 1865. 23 nls, John Murray Archive, MS 42169, fol. 37: C.L. Eastlake to A.H. Layard, Milan, 18 October 1865. 24 Ibid. Austen Henry Layard and his Unruly Passion for Art 211 print of it25. Fabris, however, claimed that Carpaccio’s paintings were his exclusivity; in fact, the transaction had been entrusted to him26. In addition to this misunderstanding, the painting had to be stored at the British Consulate in Venice for several weeks before the Austrian Government agreed to its exportation27. The Papal States and were more restrictive in this regard, as for instance Eastlake’s early incident with the Pollaiolo had proven28. From the territories under Austro-Hungarian control however works of art could more easily cross borders, since the foreign authorities did not wish to antagonise the local aristocracy too much. The letter Layard sent to Lady Eastlake appears revealing in this sense, since from it results that the Keeper at the National Gallery, Ralph Nicholas Wornum (1812-1877),

Applied to the Foreign Office officially for permission to be obtained through the Vienna Embassy for the export of the Carpaccio. I hope there will be no difficulty. If so, I hope he will let me know at once. It would have been much better if this course could have been avoided. In general, the best plan appears to me to be to leave it to the proprietor of the picture to make the necessary arrangements and to obtain the necessary permission for getting the picture out of the country. When the British Government applies the difficulty of obtaining the permission is always much greater29. The matter was ultimately resolved. By the end of January 1866,

25 cf. BL, Layard Papers, Vol. LXI, Add MS 38991, fol. 70: C.L. Eastlake to A.H. Layard, 11 February 1865; fol. 131: C.L. Eastlake to A. H. Layard, 15 March 1865. 26 cf. BL, Layard Papers, Vol. LXI, Add MS 38991, fol. 118: C.L. Eastlake to A.H. Layard, 9 March 1865. 27 see NGA, NG5/161/17: C.L. Eastlake to R. Wornum, Milan, 31 October 1865. 28 For the debate sparked by the exportation of the Pollaiolo, see M. Moore, The National Gallery Purchase of a Pollaiolo, and Sir Charles Eastlake’s Violation of Tuscan law, London 1857; D. Robertson, Sir Charles Eastlake and the Victorian Art World, Princeton 1978, p. 234; Avery-Quash, The Travel Notebooks, p. 267. 29 The Austrian Government could have exercised the right of pre-emption and secured the paintings for itself. NLS, John Murray Archive, MS 42336, fol. 95r: A.H. Layard to C.L. Eastlake, London, 18 December 1865. See also the letter detailing the instructions to the British Minister in Vienna to ensure the so-called “Carpaccio” would be secured for the National Gallery; NGA, NG6/3/258: R.N. Wornum to the Secretary, H.M. Treasury, London, 4 November 1865. 212 Cecilia Riva the Mocenigo Carpaccio reached London, where it was immediately transferred to the atelier of the restorer Raffaele Pinti for cleaning in accordance with the instructions Eastlake had previously given30. The line between Perry’s assistance to the Nation and to private collectors often blurs. Significant in this respect is the purchase of a group of paintings Layard had secured with the assistance of the Venice Vice-Consulate. In autumn 1860, while surveying the movements of the Austrian troops in Italy, Layard wrote to his uncle, Benjamin Austen, that he had visited the collection of Count Thiene:

At Vicenza I was for three days bargaining after the Italian fashion for a very fine old German picture, a crucifixion, dreadful to look at, but for expression and power one of the most extraordinary bits of painting I ever saw. I believe it to be by Martin Schon. I have not yet succeeded in getting it, but I hope to do so, as the owner does not know its value, and only makes a difficulty about selling it because I picked it out of a number of worthless pictures he offered me31. In addition to the Crucifixion, believed to be by the so-called Martin Schön (NG3067), Layard had set his eyes on a head of Saint John the Baptist (NG3076) previously attributed to Montagna, but possibly by Giovanni Buonconsiglio, and on the Dormition and Assumption of the Virgin by Gerolamo da Vicenza (NG3077)32. The negotiation was

30 nGA, NG5/161/20: C.L. Eastlake to R. Wornum, Pisa, 10 December 1865. A profile of Raffaele Pinti (1826-1881) has been traced by G. Brambilla Ranise, La raccolta dimezzata: storia della dispersione della pinacoteca di Guglielmo Lochis, 1789-1859, Bergamo 2007, pp. 17-219: 21-27. On his activity for the National Gallery, see also N. Penny, Appendix of Collectors: Biographies, Austen Henry Layard (1817-1894), in National Gallery School Catalogues: The Sixteenth century Italian paintings, Vol. 1, London 2004, pp. XIV-XV; The Letters of Elizabeth Rigby, edited by J. Sheldon, Liverpool 2009, pp. 230, 236, 238. Cf. (last accessed 01/09/2019). 31 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. XVIII, Add MS 38948: A.H. Layard to B. Austen, Verona, 11 October 1860. 32 TheCrucifixion was once at the centre of a triptych, the wings of which are preserved at the Royal Museum of Fine Arts of Antwerp (Pilate and the Chief Priests and The Virgin, Saint John the Evangelist and the Three Marys). For the painting by Buoncosiglio, see E.M. Dal Pozzolo, Giovanni Bonconsiglio, detto il Marescalco, Cinisello Balsamo 1998, pp. 175-176, no. A7. For the Dormition and Assumption of the Virgin, see Gould, Illustrated General Catalogue, p. 262. Austen Henry Layard and his Unruly Passion for Art 213 finally opened and, in September 1861, the Consul General William Perry wrote to Layard: «Dunlop [a consular agent] went with me to Vicenza to purchase your pictures – voilà tout!»33. The packing crates were then shipped along the recent Venice-Liverpool commercial route – run by the English steamer company “John Bibby & Sons” –, which the president of the Venice Chamber of Commerce had strongly promoted for the improvement of local trade conditions34. It is worth mentioning that in his position as Vice-Consul for Venice Perry also had control over the Austrian ports of the Adriatic Sea. Along with the ordinary 600 tons of goods, including «manufactories, cottons, cast iron, iron, [...] rum, grains, sumacs, clover and hemp, glass beads»35, it was possible to transport works of art regardless of an explicit customs declaration. An example of such transport can be found by tracing the journey of two paintings by Francesco Bissolo in 1861–1863. Although Layard did not go to Italy in 1861, he had been informed by Perry that a Virgin and Child with Saints by Francesco Bissolo was on sale at «F.lli Podraider Negozianti di Venezia»36. Given the impossibility to provide first-hand details, the consul himself had commissioned two Scottish agents of the Peninsular and Oriental Company, John (d. 1875) and Alexander (d. 1893) Malcolm, «to take a connoisseur they know and if he gives a favourable opinion of it I have desired them to secure it for 50 Naps»37. The evaluation of the Bissolo was undertaken

33 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXI, Add MS 39101, fol. 41v: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Venice, 5 September 1861. Alexander Graham-Dunlop was then attached to the British Legation of Vienna. 34 Venice, Archivio di Stato (hereafter ASVe), Camera di Commercio, Industria, Artigianato e Agricoltura, Primo deposito, b. 345, fasc. 5: Presidente della Camera di Commercio a Società delle Strade ferrate L.V. e dell’Italia Centrale, n. 215, 11 January 1861. 35 ASVe, Camera di Commercio, Industria, Artigianato e Agricoltura, Primo deposito, b. 345, fasc. 5: n. 215, 11 January 1861. 36 The shop was enlisted in the Commercial Guide of Venice as “Chincaglieri”, trinkets (Nuova Guida Commerciale della città di Venezia per 1858. Anno secondo Venice 1858, p. 134), but also under the heading “Terraglie, Porcellane, Vetri e Cristalli”, earthenware, porcelain, glass and crystal (Guida 1858, p. 248). 37 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXI, Add MS 39101, fol. 142: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, 2 October 1861. The Malcolms resided at Palazzo Benzon at San Beneto (Venice). They had an important timber business in (Belluno) and ran an activity in Venice, 214 Cecilia Riva by the Venetian art dealer Francesco Pajaro, by Leonardo Gavagnin – painter and restorer at the Academy – and by Spiridione Marini – painter and dealer. Immediately afterwards, Perry forwarded a copy of the painting to Layard. It was satisfactorily certified as a genuine work by Francesco Bissolo, without any traces of repairs, merely covered «dal sporco del tempo e da moltissime lordure di mosche»38. It was, however, advisable to have it cleaned in Venice, owing to the fact the Academia held «due opere indubitate del medesimo pen[n]ello, che possono servire di traccia più sicura al r[e]stauratore che venisse prescelto»39. Thereupon, Perry suggested the name ofV incenzo Azzola, who could turn the painting into «a gem»40. Against his advice and after having concluded the transaction for the initial price of 50 Napoleons, Layard asked for the picture to be brought to England by the first steamer available. The Bissolo went into the same crate as the two portraits for Frederic Elliot, so that the freight could be shared and the costs kept low at £36.15. Perry had, moreover, sent it off together with another case containing «Mr [*Langham’s] Photograph Machine» and eventually reassured Layard that «Mr Captain of the Nicholas Wood has promised to keep the boxes in the cabin»41. Despite such care and precautions, the goods never arrived in England. The steamer vanished without trace past Gibraltar, and most likely sank in the Atlantic. selling coal and carbon coke (see Guida Commerciale della città di Venezia Venice 1846, p. 122; Nuova Guida Commerciale della città di Venezia per 1857. Anno primo, Venice 1857, pp. 172, 249). «The cleverest and most active of the two brothers Alexander» later became Layard’s «special Agent» for all his commercial and artistic activities. Cf. BL, Layard Papers, Vol. XLII, Add MS 38972, fol. 42: A.H. Layard to E. Rigby, Madrid, 16 December 1875. 38 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXI, Add MS 39101, fol. 151r: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, 3 October 1861. 39 Ibid. 40 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXI, Add MS 39101, fol. 149: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Florence, 7 October 1861. On Venetian restorers and the ethic of restoration at the National Gallery, see J. Anderson, Sir Charles Eastlake e i suoi restauratori italiani Giuseppe Molteni e Raffaele Pinti, «Bollettino d’arte», 98 (1996), pp. 57-62; G. Perusini, Il dibattito sulla pulitura dei dipinti della National Gallery e del Louvre alla metà dell’Ottocento. Alcune considerazioni generali, in La cultura del restauro, Rome 2013, pp. 335-349; Perusini, Il restauro a Venezia, pp. 167-185. 41 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXII, Add MS 39102, fol. 11: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Venice, 4 December 1861. Austen Henry Layard and his Unruly Passion for Art 215

In the meantime, Perry had informed Layard of the sale of a Cima da Conegliano and of another Bissolo in the hands of the Venetian art dealer Michelangelo Guggenheim42. Layard was willing to postpone the purchase, in order to inspect them personally, even risking to secure none. To avoid this danger, Perry suggested to have the Bissolo, which he liked best, evaluated by Paolo Fabris, «Eastlake’s right hand man»43. This precaution, however, probably increased the price of the painting, which was already steep for Layard’s pockets: «It is difficult to purchase a picture without seeing it, and I should be glad if any judge, not connected with the place, could see it»44. The owner requested 100 Napoleons (ca. £80) for the Holy Conversation by Bissolo, whereas 150 Napoleons had been asked for the unidentified Cima. Perry preferred the former, specifying that – since he had been «busily employed in pictures hunting»45 with Pajaro – he had not been able to find anything better than that Bissolo. It seemed to be the

Best specimen of the [Venetian] School I have seen: it appears to have been very little retouched, but has been too much varnished. The man will not take a sixpence less than 100 Naps. It is worth all the money he asks, and so much has been made of your desire to purchase it, that some richass [sic] will pick it up. If you can afford it therefore, give an order to buy it, and I will offer 85 or 90 Naps, but I feel sure nothing under a hundred will buy it46.

42 The Cima da Conegliano has not been identified. For the Guggenheim Bissolo see BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXI, Add MS 39101, fol. 142: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Florence, 2 October 1861; fol. 184: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Florence, 18 October 1861; fol. 255: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Florence, 11 November 1861; Vol. CLXXII, Add MS 39102, fol. 11: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Venice, 4 December 1861. For a full account on Michelangelo Guggenheim, see A. Martignon, Michelangelo Guggenheim (1837-1914) e il mercato delle opere di oggetti d’arte e d’antichità a Venezia fra medio Ottocento e primo Novecento, Ph.D. dissertation (Università degli studi di Udine, 2015). 43 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXII, Add MS 39102, fol. 72r: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, 19 December 1861. 44 Ibid. 45 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXIII, Add MS 39103, fol. 75v: Private, W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Venice, 7 May 1862. 46 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXIII, Add MS 39103, fol. 157v: Private, W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Venice, 7 June 1862. 216 Cecilia Riva

The Bissolo came from the collection of the late Pope Gregory XVI. Hence the owner was sure he would make a good profit from it and did not intend to lower the price to less than 90 Napoleons. Perry further enticed Layard by mentioning that Lord Warwick was tempted to buy the picture, but he also considered the price to be exaggerated47. Pressed by Perry’s constant comments that it was «a good moment to purchase, as very little money is stirring»48, Layard resolved to buy the Guggenheim Bissolo in August 1862. This time the picture was duly insured, so that «if the steamer should go down in the Bay of Biscay you may console yourself by touching a good sum»49, as Perry jokingly commented. Its destiny was luckier and the Bissolo has been at the National Gallery of London since 1916, as part of the Layard Bequest (NG3083). Along with his trusteeship and desire to expand the National Gallery, Sir Henry felt «just pride in adding to [the nation’s] art- treasures»50 his private picture collection. He shared Charles Eastlake’s opinion for whom «a great public picture gallery should be formed […] showing the history of painting in all its branches and in its successive periods of development»51. For this very reason Layard decided, almost from the outset, to leave his «own pictures, insignificant as they are»52 to

47 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXIII, Add MS 39103, fol. 76r: Private, W. Perry to A.H. Layard, Venice, 7 May 1862. Lord Warwick was a member of the Fine Arts Club, he was elected on 19 April 1858. See London, National Art Library (hereafter NAL), MLS1952/1329: Fine Arts Club, Candidates’ Proposal Book. 48 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXIII, Add MS 39103, fol. 304: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, 2 August 1862. 49 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CLXXIV, Add MS 39104, fol. 282: W. Perry to A.H. Layard, 9 January 1863. 50 a.H. Layard, Annual Report of the Director of the National Gallery to the Treasury for the year 1885, «The Quarterly Review», 163/326 (Jul.-Oct. 1886), pp. 395-433: 409. In 1865 Eastlake authorised Layard to have The Adoration of the Kings by Bellini’s workshop (NG3098) restored by Raffaele Pinti in the cellars of the National Gallery, since he already suspected Layard’s intention «to bequeath the picture to the Gallery». NGA, NG5/161/24: E. Rigby to R.N. Wornum, Pisa, 17 December 1865, quoted from Sheldon, The Letters, p. 238. 51 Sheldon, The letters, p. 424. 52 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. XIX, Add MS 38949, fol. 62: A.H. Layard to W. Gregory, 12 September 1870. Austen Henry Layard and his Unruly Passion for Art 217 the National Gallery. Despite this deprecating comment, he intended to fill in the gaps that existed in the then museum collection, as well as to illustrate the work of lesser-known artists; i.e., Gaudenzio Ferrari or Bernardino Luini, or works of desirable masters such as Cosimo Tura or Bramantino. Moreover, since the 1870s, the international situation had changed, funds had diminished and the fierce competition that proliferated among the growing number of museums, dealers and collectors had increased the demand of Old Masters, and consequently raised the market prices53. Due to the precarity of government annual grants, Layard was convinced that the National Gallery «chiefly depend[ed …] upon gifts and bequest»54. In addition to this concern, he feared that the Italian law would become more strict about the exportation of works of art. In view of bequeathing his own pictures to the National Gallery, Layard began to consider the necessary prerequisites and conditions for their transfer to England. Indeed, the paintings had been sent back to Venice soon after he purchased a palace on the Grand Canal, Ca’ Capello, in 187455. It should therefore come as no surprise that at the end of 1887, when unified Italy began to move its first steps towards proper legislation, the British Ambassador at Rome, John Savile Lumley (1884-1888)56, lost no time in sending to his fellow collector Layard

53 See G. Reitlinger, The Economics of Taste, Vol. 1, London 1961, pp. 110, 127; G. Guerzoni, Reflections on historical series of art prices: Reitlinger’s data revisited, «Journal of Cultural Economics», 19 (1995), pp. 191-260; G. Guerzoni, The British Art Market of Paintings, 1789-1914, in Economic History and the Arts, edited by M. North, Köln 1996, p. 111. For the historical context, see D. Cannadine, Decline and Fall of the British Aristocracy, New Haven - London 1990. 54 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. XIX, Add MS 38949, fol. 108: Letter A.H. Layard to W. Gregory, 13 June 1872. See also Layard, Annual Report of the Director of the National Gallery. 55 asve, Notarile, II Serie, Angelo Pasini, b. 2371, n. 4801/2306, 31 October 1874. See also ASVe, Censo stabile attivato, San Polo, mappale 1305, 3 November 1874, petizione n. 111. 56 For Savile’s biography, see the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. On his archaeological excavations at Nemi and Civita Lavina see F. De Tomasi, Diplomazia e archeologia nella Roma di fine Ottocento, «Horti Hesperidum. Studi di storia del collezionismo e di storiografia artistica», 2 (2013), pp. 160-169; L. Attenni, Nuove considerazioni sul donario marmoreo di Licinio Murena e nuove analisi dei documenti d’archivio relativi agli scavi 218 Cecilia Riva

All the documents relating to the Bill for protecting works of art in Italy, which was discussed in the Chamber of Deputies at the end of last month; and especially the Bill itself amended by the Comm[endatore] whose corrections the Government accepted. I think you may make your mind entirely at ease as to the possibility of the new law when it is past affecting in any way the collection you brought with you toV enice: if necessary an affidavit to that effect would be sufficient to prevent any attempt on the past of the Customs Offices to claim duty on your pictures while a letter from the President of the Academy stating the fact that the pictures in your possession were brought by you to Venice would make assurance doubly sure. The duty, I fancy, will not be more than 25% ad valorem which is already far too much but it will be enforced generally over the whole of Italy whereas the Pacca law really only took effect in the ancient Pontifical States. You will therefore be free to send your pictures out of Italy without paying any duty on them. I quite agree with what you as to the impotence of the Embassy being held by a man of conciliatory character, any attempt to browbeat or bully the Italian would not only fail but would convert a nation of first allies into [*unknown] friend just when we may want them most57. Within a few months, Savile reassured Layard that he had personally discussed the matter with Rodolfo Lanciani (1845-1929), one of the main figures of the Direzione centrale per i musei e gli scavi in Rome58. In addition, Savile had consulted

Others specialized on the subject of the action of the Bill on the exportation of works of art, without mentioning any name, and I am assured in the most positive manner that the new Law when it is passed will not apply to pictures that have been brought into the country which

Savile, in Lazio e Sabina. Ottavo Incontro di Studi sul Lazio e la Sabina, edited by G. Ghini - Z. Mari, Rome 2012, pp. 289-294. 57 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CXII, Add MS 39042, fol. 27: J. Savile Lumley to A.H. Layard, 19 December 1887. For the Bill in question, see Atti Parlamentari, Camera dei deputati, Legislatura XVI, 2a sessione, Discussioni, 23 November 1887, pp. 49-66; Atti Parlamentari, Camera dei deputati, Legislatura XVI, 2a sessione, Discussioni, 24 November 1887, pp. 71-91. 58 See De Tomasi, Diplomazia e archeologia, p. 165. Austen Henry Layard and his Unruly Passion for Art 219

it may be desired to send from Italy all that is required is an affidavit or a certificate from some person acquainted with the pictures that they were brought into the country59. Thus, it becomes even more apparent how Layard used his diplomatic network for his artistic interests, and vice versa. It was this vicious or virtuous circle that allowed him to navigate more easily the high seas of legal exportation, even well beyond his death. Although his intention of bequeathing the Old Masters to the National Gallery clashed with the Italian regulations concerning the exportation of works of art, his last will was ultimately fulfilled. Again, it was only thanks to the sagacity of another British diplomat, James Rennell Rodd, that the legal impasse was overcome and the collection could reach Trafalgar Square in 191660. In addition to the interesting if neglected episode of the acquisition of the Mocenigo Carpaccio, the evidence gathered here helps to draw some conclusions in relation to Layard’s sources and modus operandi adopted for his own collecting activity. He trusted his own knowledge and taste and enjoyed vetting purchases in person, by negotiating directly with other collectors. Yet connoisseurial advice and hints considerably shaped his policy and some transactions were entrusted to intermediaries, including amateurs such as Consul William Perry. Acquisitions were made both on the bases of historical considerations and for the aesthetic appeal of particular pieces, not least for their affordability. Regarding purchasing prices, Layard’s modest resources did not allow him to buy extensively and restrictated his interests to the more economical fields of lesser-known masters. In this case, the diplomatic network proved to be an important channel. From its privileged position, the consular corps could gather and furnish at no cost to Layard, and to other members of the art world, constant first-hand information on potential acquisitions. Most importantly, it could provide safe transport and even use the exportation of works of art as bargaining chips. «The

59 BL, Layard Papers, Vol. CXIII, Add MS 39043, fol. 98: J. Savile Lumley to A.H. Layard, Rome, 29 December 1888. 60 For a complete account, see C. Riva, “Un velenoso pasticcio” made in Italy. Il caso della donazione Layard, in Donare allo Stato, edited by L. Casini - E. Pellegrini, Bologna 2016, pp. 165-173. 220 Cecilia Riva settlement of problems arising from the comparatively minor issue of the export of art could be used as a symbolic signal of good intent, or as compensation for bigger disappointments»61 on the international scene. The exportation of the Layard Collection clearly proved it. Inasmuch as the relationship between art and diplomacy has been investigated for previous centuries, it still needs to be further examined in relation to the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The cases of , Baron Marocchetti, Taparelli D’Azeglio, Baron de Triqueti, Lord Savile, Layard or James Rennell Rodd represent but a small number of the various figures that exercised a regular office, along with their unruly passion for art.

61 S. Matsumoto-Best, The Art of Diplomacy: British Diplomats and the Collection of Italian Renaissance Paintings, 1851-1917, in The Diplomats’ World. A Cultural History of Diplomacy, 1815-1914, edited by M. Mösslang - T. Riotte, Oxford 2008, pp. 83-101, p. 84. INDEX OF PERSONAL NAMES This list includes the personal names of the most relevant individuals discussed in the volume. The name is followed by the title and/or office, when available. References to figures are written in italics.

Abdul Hamid II, 34th Sultan of the Calvert, Frank, 38, 39 fn. 44 Ottoman Empire, 30 fn. 18, 32 fn. Cameron, Julia Margaret, 118-119 23, 36-37, 44, 54-55, 122, 124-125 Canning, Stratford, 1st Viscount Stratford Abdulmejid I, 31st Sultan of the Ottoman de Redcliffe, 4, 31, 33-35, 44, 69, 79, Empire, 165, 187, 188 fn. 11 97-98, 157, 161-163, 169-170, 183, Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, 187-188, 191-193, 195 fn. 27, 201 Francis Albert Augustus Charles Cheney, Edward, 176, 178 Emmanuel, Prince Consort, 81, 158 Chevalier, Nicholas, 9-10, 24 Augusta Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein, Cooper, Frederick Charles, 63-72, 74-81, Auguste Viktoria Friederike Luise 116 fn. 3 Feodora Jenny, German Empress and Queen of Prussia, 146 Dennis, George, 38, 48-50 Austen, Benjamin, 71 fn. 39, 92, 93, 212 Dethier, Philipp Anton, 35, 36 fn. 31 Austen, Marianne, 92 Disraeli, Benjamin, 1st Earl of Beacons- Austen, Sara, 67 fn. 18, 71, 77, 92, 179 field (Lord Beaconsfield), 32 fn. 32, fn. 28 44, 93, 188 fn. 11, 193 fn. 23 Du Cane, Alice, 32, 126 Badger, Rev. George Percy, 66, 72-74, Du Cane, Charlotte Maria (née Guest), 76-77 26 fn. 3, 116, 122-124, 126, 129, Badger, Maria, 66, 72, 74 fn. 54 134-135 Bell, ThomasS eptimus, 63, 75, 79, 81, 87 Du Cane, Enid Cornelia (Nela), 120, Bethell, Richard, 1st Baron Westbury, 162 127, 133 Birch, Samuel, 46 Du Cane, Florence, 127 Botta, Paul Émile, 4, 35, 97-98, 108, Du Cane, Julia, 116 157, 193 Du Cane, Olivia Blanche (Ola), 120- Braga, Gaetano, 137, 147-148 121, 133 Brown, Hugh William, 174-175 Du Cane, Richard, 116, 121, 123 Brown, Rawdon, VIII, 171-178, 180-182 Browning, Robert, 140, 147 fn. 33 Eastlake, Lady Elizabeth (née Rigby), 178 Budge, Sir Ernest Alfred Thompson fn. 26, 182, 209, 211 Wallis, 13, 53 Eastlake, Sir Charles Lock, 206 fn. 3, Burr, Anne Margaretta, 143-144 207-212, 215-216 Byron, Lord George Gordon, 171, 173- Ellis, Sir Henry, 66, 69, 75 fn. 55 174, 176 222 indexes

Fabris, Paolo, 206-207, 209-211, 215 Lubbock, William, 174 Fergusson, James, 29, 35 Lynch, Henry Finnis Blosse, 29 fn. 13 Lynch, Thomas Kerr, 29 Gladstone, William Ewart, 31, 42, 163, 168, 170 Malan, Rev. Salomon Caesar, 6, 9-10, 19- Gordon, George Hamilton, 4th Earl of 20, 24, 75 Aberdeen, 163, 188 fn. 11 Malcolm, Alexander, 178-180, 182, 213 Gower, Lord Granville George Leveson-, Malcolm, John, 178-179, 213 2nd Earl Granville, 158 Mascagni, Pietro, 137, 147, 154 Grace, Mr (a young Englishman), 33-35 Mitford, Edward, 4, 93-96, 188-189 Gruner, Ludwig, 81 Mocenigo, Alvise, Count, 207-210, 212, Guest, Lady Charlotte Elizabeth (née 219 Bertie, later Lady Charlotte Schreiber), Murray, John, 9 fn. 12, 35, 81, 93, 108 116, 119 fn. 12, 126 Guggenheim, Michelangelo, 215-216 Newton, Sir Charles Thomas, 42, 47-48 Nicholas I, Nikola Petrović-Njegoš, Haig, Charles Thomas, 143-144 Prince and later King of Montenegro, Henderson, Patrick, 46, 49 146 Higford Davall Burr, Daniel, 143-144 Nicolson, Arthur, 1st Baron Carnock, 32 Hildebrand, Hans Olof, 143-144 Hodder, Charles Doswell, 63, 79, 88 Oliphant, Laurence, 32-33 Hurtado, Idita, 150, 180 Pajaro, Francesco (also written Pagliaro), Kellogg, Miner Kilbourne, 183-188, 208, 210, 214-215 192-193, 196-198 Passini, Ludwig Johann, 128 King, Leonard William, 13 Perosi, Lorenzo, 147 fn. 34, 148 Perry, William, 205-210, 212-216, 219 Layard, Arthur, 157 Petrie, William Matthew Flinders, 51 Layard, Edgar, 157 Pilat, Hans von, 143-144, 150 Layard, Frederick, 92, 157 Pinti, Raffaele, 212, 216 fn. 50 Layard, Henry Peter John, 91-93, 157 Powers, Hiram, 184-186, 193, 200 Layard, Lady Mary Enid Evelyn (née Prentis, Edward, 63, 80, 89 Guest), 26, 30, 32, 41 fn. 49, 44 fn. Preziosi, Amedeo, 109, 195-196, 198, 61, 51 fn. 78, 116-129, 133, 135, 203 137-142, 144-151, 153-154, 179, 182 Ramsay, William Mitchell, 51-52 Layard, Phyllis, 195 fn. 27 Rassam, Christian Anthony, 6, 13-14, Loftus, William Kennett, 104 65, 72-73, 79, 81, 98 Lubbock, Anna Eliza, 174-175 Rassam, Hormuzd, 12-14, 21, 46, 49, Lubbock, Emma, 175, 182 53, 55, 63, 65-68, 73-75, 78, 81, 104, Lubbock, John,1st Baronet, 174 122 Lubbock, John, 1st Baron Avebury, 4th Rassam, Matilda, 65, 72-73 Baronet, 175 Rawlinson, Sir Henry Creswicke, 1st Lubbock, John William, 2nd Baronet, 174 Baronet, 29, 96, 98, 189 Lubbock, John William, 3rd Baronet, 175 Rich, Claudius James, 97, 157 indexes 223

Rogers, Samuel, 174, 176-177 Temple, Henry John, 3rd Viscount Rolland, Charlotte, 65-66, 70-72 Palmerston, 158, 162-166, 177 Rolland, Stewart Erskine, 65-66, 70-71 Tenniel, John, 36, 60 Ross, Henry James, 6, 13, 72-73, 96, 98 Thomas, Arthur Goring, 147 fn. 34, 148- Ruskin, John, 147, 174, 176 149 Russell, Lord John, 1st Earl Russell, 158, Thompson, Henry, 120 161, 166, 168 Thompson, Herbert, 120, 133 Thompson, Reginald Campbell, 13 Sachau, Carl Eduard, 45, 49 Trollope, Anthony, 144, 185 Saleh, 183, 194-198, 199 Trollope, Frances, 185, 199 Sandwith, Humphry, 65, 69, 73, 75 Sanudo (Sanuto), Marin (Marino) il Valentine, Edward, 179-180 Giovane, 172, 173, 177 Vámbéry, Ármin, 143-144 Savile Lumley, John, 1st Baron Savile of Vaux, William Sandys Wright, 29 Rufford, 217-220 Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa, Princess Sayce, Archibald Henry, 25-39, 42-55, Royal, German Empress and Queen 57 Consort of Prussia, 122, 149 Schliemann, Heinrich, 25, 29, 36, 38-43, Victoria, Queen of the 48, 52 of Great Britain and Ireland, 30 fn. Schulz, Friedrich Eduard, 50 18, 39 fn. 47, 115, 182 Shishman, Toma, 6, 68, 74 Singh, Ganga, 146 Washburn, George, 43-44 Smith, George, 13-14, 16-19, 22 Wheeler, George Montague, 143-144 Smyth, Ethel, 137, 147fn. 34, 148, 154 Wilhelm II, Friedrich Wilhelm Viktor Somers-Cocks, Charles Somers, Viscount Albert, German Emperor and King of Eastnor, 3rd Earl Somers, 118-119 Prussia, 54-55, 146 Somers-Cocks, Virginia Somers (née Williams, Owen Edward, 179-180 Pattle), 118 Winckler, Hugo, 54-55 Wornum, Ralph Nicholas, 209 fn. 18, Taqi, Khān Mohammed, 190-191, 196- 211 197

INDEX OF PLACE NAMES This list includes the most relevant place names discussed in the volume. References to figures are written in italics.

Athens, 47-48 Hissarlık, 38-42 – British School, 47, 52 – Gennadius Library of the American India, 96, 144, 146, 161, 163, 166 School of Classical Studies, 43 Isfahan, 96, 190 Aylesbury, 158 fn. 5, 169 fn. 7, 160 fn. 14, 161, 165 Karabel Pass, 37-38 Khorsabad, 4, 12, 35, 97, 103, 107, 157, Baghdad, 4, 7, 95-98, 191, 198, 206 193 Ceylon, 4, 34-35, 92-93, 96, 157, 188- Khuzestan, 189, 191, 197-198, 201 189 Kuyunjik, 4-7, 12-14, 20-21, 23, 66-68, 71, 97, 193 fn. 23 Constantinople, 25-26, 30-32, 34-35, – “Chambers of records”, 8, 10-11, 14, 39, 45, 48, 50, 55, 56, 65, 75, 87, 93- 16 94, 97-98, 122-124, 126, 157, 162, – court 19, 7, 10 169-170, 183, 187-188, 191-195, – north Palace, 12-16, 74 198, 203 – room 38, 7, 19, 24 – Pera (Beyoğlu), 32, 49 fn. 74, 61, 124 – room 40, 8, 10-12, 16-18, 21 – robert College, 43-44 – room 41, 8-12, 14, 16-18, 21, 24 – stamboul, 126 – room 49 (Gallery), 16, 19-21, 24 – Therapia, 32-37, 44-45, 123 – room W, 8, 10, – south-West Palace, 5- 8, 10-11, 13-16, Dorset 18, 20-22, 23, 64, 66-67 – canford Manor, 116, 123 – Throne Room, 16-18 – Highcliffe Castle, 118 London, 3, 14, 25, 28, 30, 35-36,38, 40, Edinburgh 46, 50-53, 77 fn. 64, 78-80, 100-101, – National Library of Scotland, John 116, 119, 127, 141, 146, 148, 160, Murray Archive, 121 174-175, 177, 187, 188 fn. 11, 192, Egypt, 51, 53-54, 55, 104, 107, 141, 194, 212 146, 186, 193 fn. 23 – athenaeum Club, 28-30, 51, 58 – British Library, 26 fn. 3, 27, 43, 116, Florence, 92-93, 106, 166, 185-187, 138 193, 201, 214 fn. 40, 215 fn. 42 – British Museum, 5, 9, 12-13, 16, 35, 42, 45-46, 50, 53, 63, 65-67, 75-76, Herefordshire 79-81, 91, 100, 102-104, 116-117, – eastnor Castle, 118 129, 195 fn. 27 226 indexes

– crystal Palace, 3, 29 – Bodleian Library, 43, 53 – de Keyser’s Royal Hotel, 38 fn. 41 – Griffith Institute, 54 – National Gallery, 121, 207-212, 214 – St. Anthony’s College, Middle East fn. 40, 216-217, 219 Centre Archive, 121 – National Portrait Gallery, 83 fn. 46, – The Queen’s College, 27 fn. 6, 32-33 128 fn. 36 – South Kensington Museum (now Paris, 92, 98, 146, 188 fn. 11, 194, 195 Victoria & Albert Museum), 39, 40 fn. 27, 208 fn. 13 fn. 48, 65, 206 Persia, 97, 165, 189, 191, 195, 206 Luristan, 183, 197 – Persian Gulf, 189-191

Madrid, 123, 168-170, 179 Qalah Sherqat (also written Qal’at Mosul, 4-7, 9-10, 35, 63, 65-66, 69, 71- Sherqat and Kala Shergat), 4, 95, 128 75, 77-79, 81, 91, 95, 97-98, 157, 193 fn. 35

Newcastle Rome, 146, 148, 170, 186, 217-218, 219 – newcastle University, Philip Robinson fn. 59 Library, Layard Archive, 26 fn. 3, 115- Russia, 93, 146, 161, 163, 165, 188 fn. 117, 119, 122, 126-129 11 Nimrud, 4-5, 7- 8, 15, 63, 67-68, 72-75, Sipylos Mountain (Akpınar), 37-38 77-78, 80-81, 84, 91-92, 95, 97-99, Southwark, 162, 169 104-107, 142 – central Palace, 64 Tell Arban, 7, 9, 69, 74, 82 – Fort Shalmaneser, 95, 107 Troad, 25, 29, 36, 38 – ninurta temple, 66 Troy, 36, 38-41 – north-West Palace, 5, 64, 66, 91, 99, 101, 105, 110, 142 Van, – room of the bronzes, 68, 80, 84 – citadel, 46, 50, 69, 75 – sharrat-Niphi temple, 66 – lake, 7 – south-East Palace, 64, 66 Venice, 42, 122-123, 128-129, 137-138, – south-West Palace, 64, 66 140, 141 fn. 12, 144-151, 171-174, Nineveh, 3-5, 8-9, 13, 16, 18, 20-21, 31, 176 fn. 18, 177-181, 182 fn. 46, 205- 33, 35, 40, 42, 63, 66-68, 74-77, 81, 218 85, 95, 97, 99, 116, 157-161, 188, – ca’ Capello (also written Cappello or 193 Palazzo Cappello), 120 fn. 19, 122, 126, 133, 135, 140, 143-146, 148- Ottoman Empire, 4, 31, 33, 37, 46 fn. 151, 179-181, 183, 189, 202, 217 64, 54, 97, 146, 155, 157, 161, 163, – lido, 120, 133, 148 fn. 42, 173, 182 165, 186-188 Vienna, 140, 206, 211, 213 fn. 33 Oxford, 25-27, 45 fn. 63, 51 fn. 81 affiliations

Silvia Alaura, ISMA, CNR, Roma (GRISSO project)

John Curtis, Iran Heritage Foundation, London

Stefania Ermidoro, Newcastle University (GRISSO project)

Frederick Mario Fales, Università degli Studi di Udine; Istituto Ve- neto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti

Maria Stella Florio, Independent scholar

Andrew R. George, SOAS University of London

Georgina Herrmann, University College, London

Jonathan P. Parry, Pembroke College, University of Cambridge

Cecilia Riva, Università Ca’ Foscari Venezia

Henrike Rost, Universität Paderborn

Finito di stampare nel mese di dicembre 2020 da Cierre Grafica, Sommacampagna (VR)

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